Sedimentary Percussion
by Kay Willow
Summary: Candidate!Gareas has encountered an obstacle in the path of becoming a Pilot -- himself. Can he overcome something so simple as insomnia...? WARNINGS: mention of shounen ai, fluff, mostly normal universe and therefore a mild depression warning at the end
1. Part 1: Point

ABSENTMINDED AUTHOR NOTES:   
Eight parts to the whole thing; three chapters with two POVs in each, and an epilogue, also with two POVs. I'll be posting them in chronological order, which means Point 1, Counterpoint 1; Point 2, Counterpoint 2; etc. However they can be read in that order, or in groups -- the story will probably make the same amount of sense if you read ONLY the Parts, or ONLY the Counterpoints. ^^ Warning that the Counterpoints are pretty heavy on the shounen ai, but I don't think most of you mind... 

If you understand the title, then you're better off than I am. ^_^ Li-san handed it over to me: "percussion" is the medical term for contact or touch; "sedimentary" means multi-layered. Hence, we have a cool-sounding title that actually bears meaning on the fic... 

WARNINGS:   
This takes place in the same universe/timeline as the series itself; it's NOT an AU, which means that certain things WILL happen (poor Ernest) and certain things will not (poor Ernest, again). However, heaven only knows how many facts I have just plain WRONG due to not actually being fluent in Japanese, and heaven only knows how many of these things are my own explanation/interpretation of things that haven't been told to us yet. Also, it's long. ^^ The grand total of this thing is 47 pages in Word, 11-pt font. So... it's pretty big. ^__^ And the entire first chapter is only 7 of those pages, so the latter chapters will start getting long... 

* * *

SEDIMENTARY PERCUSSION   
CHAPTER 1: Point   
by Kay Willow   


"I'm not going to beat around the bush here, Gareas," the Instructor said unhappily. Gareas knew he'd seen this man before, but the name and number that marked his identity didn't come to him. He couldn't have been very important. It didn't bode well that he seemed so nervous. 

"You know that Sarne Mollan's EX has been failing him lately, and they're still conducting tests so we don't KNOW that he's being retired from the Pilots just yet." 

Gareas nodded impatiently. Of course he knew. He was... 

"You're currently Top in the Academy, of course, so if he DOES fail the tests you're the natural choice for his successor." 

He nodded again, wary now. Something was very strange about this... 

"But... There are those who question the wisdom of making you a Pilot." 

It didn't sink in for a long moment. Gareas stood, frozen, attempting to register this new information, this simple sentence which had the potential to destroy his every hope and dream. 

Then he came back to himself and exploded. "WHAT?!" he demanded. "WHY?! It's not my ability or performance, because I AM the top in every class and course--" 

"Oh, yes, of course, there's no doubt about that," the Instructor hurried to reassure him, looking wary. 

"I've NEVER let you down in battle, I KNOW when to act on my own intuition and when to follow orders, I've saved COUNTLESS lives in emergency situations, so whether you like it or not you CAN'T have a problem with my attitude--" 

"Of course not!" exclaimed the Instructor, who was actually one of the many people who lived in constant fear of Gareas' "attitude", and who was at that very moment bitterly regretting that he'd been the one to pull the short straw when the Instructors were choosing the unfortunate soul who had to break the news to their star Candidate. 

Garu, who was on the verge of physical violence, shouted, "I am the MODEL of what you want in a Pilot!" 

"But you're an insomniac," the Instructor said timidly, cringing as though expecting the boy to hit him. 

All the wind left Gareas' sails. He sagged suddenly, wearing the expression of someone who'd been kicked in the stomach. "I... My insomnia?" he repeated. "THAT'S what's holding me back?" 

With no small amount of relief, the Instructor straightened himself into a more dignified position. "It changes things, you understand," he said, in control once more. "If you can't sleep well, then your health and stamina will suffer the price." 

"But I'm FINE--" the Candidate protested. 

"Not forever. Right now you're still sixteen, and your body will deal with anything you throw at it. But it won't be long -- two years at most -- before that youthful resilience begins to decrease, and all your sleepless nights will catch up with you." The Instructor began warming to his topic. Gareas wished that he wouldn't get demoted for punching him. "Weariness might slow your movements and reaction times, could cloud your judgment and critical thinking, and then to inflict your unbalanced state on an Ingrid...?" 

Rage and fury warred with depression and unhappiness in Gareas' head; he could only barely see the Instructor. They weren't going to let him pilot. His future had vanished before his eyes. They weren't going to let him pilot. What was there left for him? Fighting Victim had been the only dream he'd had. 

He almost missed it when the Instructor continued, "Make no mistake -- you've earned the title. But we can't take any risks with our Goddesses. Unless you can find some sort of cure..." 

"A cure?" Gareas seized on the words like a lifeline. Perhaps they were. 

"Maybe you can ask the doctors in Med Bay," the Instructor volunteered, apparently feeling generous now that Gareas was humbled. 

On the other hand, Gareas conceded later, it may have been pure cruelty on the Instructor's part, in revenge for his earlier fear. 

In Med Bay, he'd been told that the only universally-effective treatments for insomnia were medications: pills and drugs. Gareas didn't need them to tell him that these "treatments" were out of the question. They were delaying tactics at best, and prolonged use would not only be dangerous but would also alter the biorhythms and brain patterns that were so crucial in the partnership between Pilot and Ingrid. 

They'd offered alternate solutions -- hypnosis, meditation, trances; all techniques that had been developed in earlier days of human history, but which had been refined and mastered and eventually perfected after EX training attained prominence. But most of the same problems carried over: they would affect his body's natural flow, and they were short-term only, and with extended exposure they became less and less likely to have a significant impact. 

"Really," one of the highly decorative nurses had told him consolingly, "insomnia therapy is only supposed to be for a brief period of time. No Pilot has ever had it before, and usually it goes away on its own... Maybe if you exhaust yourself before going to bed, you'll sleep better!" 

"What am I supposed to do, jog laps around GOA?" Garu snarled to himself as he trudged disconsolately to his room. 

Ernest was waiting for him. The shorter boy stepped forward, visibly uncertain of his welcome, but the fact that he was there at all was a victory for Gareas; Ernest had been raised to be reclusive and repressed on top of his naturally quiet and unassuming personality, and the combination had proved to be extremely difficult for Garu to overcome. Even now that he was sure Ernest had opened up to him, he still had the sneaking suspicion that Ernest didn't really think that he was one of Garu's best friends. 

"Hey," he said, trying to sound in better spirits than he was. "What're you doing here?" 

Brushing back a loose strand of blond hair shyly, Ernest said, "I could feel... that you were unhappy." 

Sometimes Garu forgot the only setback to being friends with a telepathist -- you always had to be real careful how emotional you were, no matter how far away your empathic friend was, because powerful emotions can cross massive distances. 

The other boy added, "You were broadcasting strong enough to knock me off my feet. First anger that struck me like a physical blow, then sadness that jabbed straight into my skull..." He smiled, looking a bit less lost now that Garu was snickering at his words. "You're always so violent, Garu." 

"You're the one who opened up to it," he returned casually. "Maybe I'm violent, but you like it. Masochist." 

Ernest grinned back. "Sadist." 

Feeling absurdly pleased with himself, Garu shoved his way into his room and tried to recapture his earlier sulk. Ernest hovered in the doorway, then shook himself and trailed in after him. 

"They're not going to let me become a Pilot," Gareas told him, and with those simple words he felt the frustration return in full force. 

Ernest stared at him. "Why not?" he demanded. "You're the best we've got, Garu! There's nobody who could out-perform you--" 

"I know, I know!" Garu fought the urge to tear out his hair and made a deliberate attempt to tamp down the strength of his negative emotions, reminding himself that Ernest didn't deserve to suffer for it. "And THEY know it, too!" 

"Then... then why...?" 

"Because I'm an insomniac." He spat that last out viciously, feeling as if the very word was offending him; he saw Ernest flinch from the sound and regretted it. 

"You have trouble sleeping?" Ernest said slowly. 

"Isn't that what I just said?" Garu retorted, throwing himself on his bed and burying his face in his arms. 

Ernest, looking thoughtful, moved over to sit next to him on the edge of the bed. "I never thought... Why?" 

Gareas turned his head. "I don't know. I just... can't relax. Can't not THINK. It's not very conducive to drifting off, you know?" 

He saw it coming as though his EX were foresight. He clapped his hands over his ears and groaned just moments before Ernest teased, "Well, you have to think SOME time." 

"Okay, okay, if you've got that out of your system, can we get back to the fact that I have a PROBLEM here?" 

Ernest smiled at him, something in his eyes that Garu didn't bother trying to interpret -- he'd already recognized a number of facets of Ernest that he would simply never understand. "So you need to find a solution, huh? How about using EX to help--" 

"No, no. We've already covered all that in Med Bay. It's no good," he grumbled. "I can't risk anything that would change my bond with my Ingrid." 

"But if you'd--" 

"Ernest, come on, here!" Garu growled, slamming a fist into his pillow with enough raw force to split the side. "I need a SOLUTION, not a rehashing of false starts!" 

Eyeing the ruined pillow nervously, Ernest bowed to the inevitable and moved on. "Then maybe exercise is the way to go. If you wear yourself down in the weight room, there's a good chance that you'll fall right to sleep the moment your head hits the..." A more meaningful glance at the pillow. "...mattress." 

The pillow got shoved to the floor. "I've got extras," he said under his breath. 

"Does this happen that often?" Ernest teased in a similar undertone. 

"BUT," said Gareas in his loudest voice, "do you really think this'll work?" He flipped over on his back and glanced up at his friend, who continued to watch him with faint amusement. "I mean, I work out every day. What's an extra hour gonna do?" 

"A lot, if you do it right," was his response. 

He thought it over, then nodded shortly. "All right. If you really think it'll do some good, I'll try it." Garu grinned wolfishly at the other boy. "But you'll have to tolerate my whining if it doesn't work." 

"I accept that responsibility," Ernest said, laughing. 

* * *

To be continued in the Counterpoint. ^^ Megami Kouhosei and our leading pair belong to Yukiru Sugisaki, she who brings meaning to my existence; the situation and anything mangled in the writing thereof belongs to me, because I suck. ^^ 

Kay Willow   
AIM: Savinsilk   
Email: kay_willow@hotmail.com 


	2. Part 1: Counterpoint

ABSENTMINDED AUTHOR NOTES:   
Counterpoints are from Ernest's POV. The ecchibis INSISTED on something, and since I couldn't break timeline and have Garu and Ernest have wild sex, I compromised by giving them an extremely shounen ai counterpoint piece. ^^ They're not happy, no, but Ernest is almost as good at fighting off the ecchibis as Erts is, so I leave him to fend for himself... 

WARNINGS:   
Shounen ai, shounen ai, shounen ai. Same universe, same timeline, no AU. Ernest's gonna go off and get himself killed one day, and Garu doesn't ever go off and get himself a clue. There will be inaccuracies and a lot of assumptions about the nature of GOA, Candidatehood, Pilothood, etc, and I'm just guessing about a lot of the personal stuff that I SHOULD know if only there were furigana on these damn kanji. ^^ Ah, well. Don't hold it against me too much.   


* * *

SEDIMENTARY PERCUSSION   
CHAPTER 1: Counterpoint   
by Kay Willow   


I wasn't lying to him. 

It's never been that way before; normally my EX tempers the emotions of others so that they come in as distinct, separate entities, hovering on the edges of my consciousness like leeches and sucking away my peace of mind. But with him, I've never been able to maintain that distance: even from the first, his life and his spirit, his ENERGY hit me like a sledgehammer, leaving me dazed and winded and utterly confused. 

His livid anger surged out of the void at me, penetrating effortlessly past my defenses and flooding into me like a living thing, tearing me apart. And no sooner had I fallen to my knees than it was followed by a crushing, crippling despair, weighing on my heart and soul and dragging me down still further. 

And I wasn't in the least upset about my pain. All I could think was, Garu! Garu, what's happened to you, what's wrong?!> 

But I couldn't reach out to him. Not there, in the middle of the training grounds, with instructors and monitors watching me, with Tune's normally hesitant voice frantic with worry from the control room, with the limited, barely-sentient concern of my Pro-Ing drifting up to me without understanding. 

"I'm sorry," I panted, fighting to regain my feet and finding my legs unstable. "I need... a rest." 

When Garu returned to his rooms, radiating a confused muddle of emotions that wrenched further at my mind, I made sure to be waiting for him. He looked so lost, so hopeless, that every empathic instinct I had urged me to reach out and soothe him. 

At his question, I tried to show that somehow -- to embrace him, to take his hand, even just to tell him that I understand. My body and my brain met at a crossroads, and I took a single step forward and suddenly found something agitating about my hair. I don't know why I try. He doesn't feel the same way, probably considers me just another of his many friends, might even not consider me that much, maybe just someone he tried to help while he was feeling generous or just bored. 

I can never be anything more than there for him. "I could feel..." I began, "...that you were unhappy." 

And so much more, Gareas. And so much more. I always know what you feel.> 

No matter what he may think, no matter how he views that day, I was his from the first moment I felt his mind... from the first moment he held out his hand to the mysterious telepathist he didn't even know and vowed to be his friend no matter what. How he knew how lonely I was, how tired I was, how much I needed that helping hand... I will probably never understand how he can claim to be so bad at dealing with people, and yet read me so easily. 

"You were broadcasting strong enough to knock me off my feet. First anger that struck me like a physical blow, then sadness that jabbed straight into my skull..." A pathetic explanation of something that left me paralyzed and breathless and desperately needing to go to him all at once, but he appeared to appreciate it anyway, and I smiled and teased him just a little. "You're always so violent, Garu." 

For a moment, everything seemed okay, as he needled me back and we continued to play this game that I never thought I could enjoy, a game of mocking and untruths. But then the depression returned to him as he swung into his room -- his territory, a space that my mind recognized on some primal level as being totally and utterly his -- and he pronounced bleakly, "They're not going to let me become a Pilot." 

The words made no sense to me, even accompanied by the wretchedness that told me that it wasn't a joke. He explained his situation in simple, unadorned sentences, then threw himself on his bed and made as if to hide from the cruel and heartless universe that had forced on him the one thing that could shatter his dreams, through no fault of his own. 

Insomnia. Such an abstract thing, seemingly so innocent... Something I would never have normally associated with Gareas, and coming so close to sabotaging everything he's worked for. 

I sat next to him on the bed. "I never thought... Why?" 

He cocked his head around to study me, keeping his face resting on his folded arms. "I don't know. I just... can't relax. Can't not THINK. It's not very conducive to drifting off, you know?" 

He starts the game, demands that I play it, and then leaves himself open like that. I grinned broadly and delivered the appropriate insult: "Well, you have to think SOME time." 

"Okay, okay," Garu said testily, disgruntled at having outmaneuvered himself, "if you've got that out of your system, can we get back to the fact that I have a PROBLEM here?" 

He pouted, and in that instant I wanted nothing more than to lean down and kiss him -- smooth his wild hair with my fingers and feel his body next to mine and find a way to hold all his unhappiness at bay. But he's not for me, and I know that; I belong to him completely, but he is a free spirit, and I could no sooner seize him and seek to hold him to me than I could seize a star and make it mine. 

But, as Garu said, he had a problem. Although it wasn't much of a problem, since the answer was already within his grasp. I smiled at him. "So you need to find a solution, huh? How about using EX to help--" 

"No, no. We've already covered all that in Med Bay. It's no good," he interrupted me. "I can't risk anything that would change my bond with my Ingrid." 

I tried again, "But if you'd--" 

"Ernest, come on, here!" he snarled, venting his frustration on his pillow and snapping the seams. He glowered at its remains. "I need a SOLUTION, not a rehashing of false starts!" 

Gareas, if I didn't love you so much, I don't know if I could bear with you.> But the violence and the impatience are part of his charm, and only make his careful, deliberate efforts to draw me out all the more wondrous. 

He didn't want to hear the obvious solution. Sometimes Gareas likes doing things the hard way. "Then maybe exercise is the way to go. If you wear yourself down in the weight room, there's a good chance that you'll fall right to sleep the moment your head hits the... mattress." I couldn't fight down the smirk. 

And then he rolled onto his back and stared up at me intensely. Almost unconsciously, he ran a hand up his chest... 

Ah, Garu, you don't know what you do to me.> 

And then he smiled at me. For me. "All right. If you really think it'll do some good, I'll try it." 

'If I really think'... If it's me, then he'll take my word. 

"But you'll have to tolerate my whining if it doesn't work." 

He couldn't let a sentimental moment go, could he? I couldn't help laughing, his turmoil and my own wistful imaginings melting away in a heartbeat of camaraderie, which, in the end, is enough for me. 

What else could I say? "I accept that responsibility." 

I will never have to merely tolerate you, Gareas. I'm yours. 

* * *

Sappy? Yes. Overly mushy? Yes. Gonna get better? Not really. ^^ 

Pleasepleaseplease give feedback; I can't write for a series unless I get reassurance that I'm not making everybody OOC or mangling the story or offending people or something. ~_~ So if I don't get responses, I'm going to assume you don't like it, and then I'll feel bad. ^^ You don't want me to feel bad, do you...?   
  
Everybody belongs to Yukiru Sugisaki. I own four of the manymany copies of her tankoubon that are out there, and pretty much nothing else but the scenario. ^^ 

Kay Willow, heading off to pray for nice commentary   
AIM: Savinsilk   
Email: kay_willow@hotmail.com   
Quote: Erin-neesama, after counseling me on the Epilogue -- 

"You can repay my literary advice by getting Ernest laid. Or at   
least pointing me to a page where I can get enough specifics   
to get him laid myself." 


	3. Part 2: Point

ABSENTMINDED AUTHOR NOTES:   
I like this part. Even if the ecchibis were taking over for a while here. >D See if you can guess where the ecchibis are talking. They're not hidden very hard. 

WARNINGS:   
Pro-Leena. If you don't like Leena, I hope to be able to change your mind. ^^ Please note my view of her relationship with Gareas... Again: not an AU, so everything will wind up the same anyway. And again: I'm making stuff up as I go along to explain what I don't know. And... this Point alone is as long as the last entire chapter. ^^ 

* * *

SEDIMENTARY PERCUSSION   
CHAPTER 2: Point   
by Kay Willow   


Last night had been spent staring at the ceiling and listening to the pulse of his own blood until the halogen lights had begun to brighten, signifying the start of somebody's day -- and, finally, the end of Gareas'. 

For a week, he'd been exercising with every spare ounce of energy he had at the end of the day. He'd beaten all his own records and put newer and lesser Candidates to shame. He'd tried different techniques and methods, spent more time on the nine entrance check tests than most Candidates did during their actual entry period, and just generally wound up working so hard that he had to take care that he didn't work TOO hard and destroy his own constitution. 

And, if anything, his insomnia had gotten worse. With adrenaline pumping in his veins and his entire body ready for action, it had taken him twice as long to settle down. And being "settled down" didn't mean that "sleep" was a guaranteed follow. Once he was "settled down" he started to think. 

I'm still awake. I'm not tired at all. This isn't working. Is anything going to work? Am I ever going to get rid of this insomnia? What if I never get to be a Pilot? I'm already doomed. I don't have a prayer. I can't figure out what to do. I'm trying my best... but I'm still awake. I'm not tired at all. I'm SO screwed.> 

Gareas was ready to give up on the exercise approach by the time he reasoned furiously that if he ran through the magnetized hall for one more hour, he would wind up with a polar charge himself. 

"It's just not WORKING," he complained through his teeth when he met Ernest for lunch on the seventh day. 

Ernest looked more awkward than ever in this public setting, as if every person in the cafeteria was staring at him or afraid of him, but he responded with his usual serene confidence. "That's because you're not doing it right. You're supposed to ease down before you stop; you can't just suddenly decide you've had enough and flop into bed and expect to fall asleep." 

"That's not what I'm doing!" Garu protested. "But I don't know WHAT you want from me! What do you mean, ease down?" 

"It's kind of like warming up, but the other way around," Ernest answered humorously. 

Garu gave him a flat glare. "Start talking sense. What do you mean by warming up?" 

The shorter boy blinked at him, obviously confused. "Don't you warm up before you exercise?" he demanded. 

"I don't think so," he replied honestly. "If you mean do I start slow and work my way up to a real work-out..." 

"Yes, that's right," said Ernest, looking relieved. 

"...then no." Gareas shrugged at the stunned stare. "I've never really needed to. It's boring." 

"Boring," his friend repeated. "Garu, you could seriously hurt yourself if you force your body right into a strenuous activity; what if you sprain something--" 

Garu snorted. The very idea... "What, you don't think I can handle exercise? This is me we're talking about, Ernest! My body can take anything you throw at it!" 

For some bizarre reason, Ernest's cheeks reddened. "Ah. Well, I don't doubt that--" 

"Here, look, put your hand on my thigh. I'm NOT just going to tear a ligament, pal, not with THIS body--" 

"Garu, really, I believe you! Stop--!" 

"BOYS!" 

They froze and whipped around to face Chef. The huge black man loomed over the pair of Candidates, glowering down at them disapprovingly. Suddenly self-conscious, Garu released his grip on Ernest's hand, and the other boy snatched it away from his leg, and they both flushed uneasily. 

Chef stared at them for another long moment before growling, "You are having a problem." 

"Er, yeah," Garu said warily. 

"What is your problem?" demanded Chef, lowering his loom somewhat so that he was closer to their level. 

Garu cleared his throat, and glanced at Ernest, who was no help -- bright red and hiding his face. "I have insomnia," he tried after another moment. "Med Bay can't help me, and exercise doesn't work, so..." 

"Clearly, there is only one solution," Chef pronounced grandly. 

"There is?" For a brief moment, he dared to allow himself to hope. Then he remembered who he was talking to. 

Two enormous trays of something-almost-like-food slammed onto the countertop in front of them. "EAT!" Chef bellowed. 

The Candidates snatched up their trays and fled for their lives. 

Gareas slowed from the headlong sprint once they were a suitable distance away from the line. Now he was frustrated, miserable, angry, AND stupid enough to be expecting non-cafeteria-related advice from Chef. He shook his head, disgusted with himself. He was really getting to be a pathetic, sad case. 

"Ah, there's Leena," Ernest piped up suddenly. 

Garu craned his head to see Leena sitting with a crowd of other Repairers across the room. He shrugged. "She's hanging out with her friends. We don't need to shove in there. Besides, I want to talk about this." 

Ernest studied his face. "Leena doesn't have any ideas?" 

"Leena is convinced that I'm never going to get over this, and she's grimly resigning herself to be a nobody Repairer for the rest of her life," Garu reported tersely. "I've given her leave to apply for a transfer if she likes, to a Candidate with better prospects." 

THAT had hurt. But then again, so had watching her face crumble when she heard the news, and the obvious forced cheer in her voice when she told him that she'd root for him until he got over it. Gareas didn't need to be a telepathist to know that she was lying through her teeth. 

Ernest was silent for a moment, then asked quietly, "What did she say?" 

"Nothing." And that had hurt, too. 

The boys sat down at a table in the far back together. Garu spotted several of his friends on the way over, but none of them were very inclined to thought or problem-solving, and none of them would understand and take the situation seriously the way Ernest would. Besides, he wanted to keep this crisis as private as possible. Just him, and Leena, and Ernest... 

...and every single Instructor and Tutor and Mechanic and Doctor in all of GOA. All week, as he exercised, they'd been giving him pitying looks. Dr. Rill had put her hand on his shoulder and given him a sympathetic squeeze when he went in for an atomic evaluation. Dr. Rill, who preferred to do amputations right away and damn if the anesthesia had taken effect yet! Instructor AZUMA HIJIKATA had looked away uncomfortably when they passed in the hallway. Instructor AZUMA, who EVERYONE knew didn't have the word "mercy" in his vocabulary! 

Garu glared at the multicolored heap on his plate, jammed a fork into the mess, and forced himself to eat it. He was being monitored even closer than the other Candidates. After all, he was the only one who might be REJECTED as a Pilot before he even made it to that elite rank. Heaven forbid he should try to STARVE himself in penance. 

"You can try drinking more milk," Ernest offered, obviously at a loss. "Milk is an agonist of the serotonin hormone, which helps you sleep..." 

"Where do you propose I GET milk?" Gareas pointed out. "Do we have cows on board GOA? Maybe I should ask CHEF for some." He snorted. "Sure, and then get a quart of this flavorless energy drink shoved down my throat by a madman demanding to know why what he gives me isn't GOOD enough." 

The blond boy smiled weakly. "Maybe you should stop drinking the energy drink." 

"And get jumped by admin-types who've been watching me on the cameras, making sure I don't dehydrate on top of everything else?" 

Ernest's grin faded and he sighed heavily, and Garu immediately felt terrible. He reached out a hand and placed it over Ernest's, and before the other boy could jerk away he focused his regret into that simple contact. 

A silent apology, the best he could manage. He'd always been wretched at saying he was sorry. 

It was enough. Ernest gave him a somewhat teary but obviously heartfelt smile, and slipped his hand around in Garu's grip. They held hands for a long moment, Gareas pleased with himself and patiently waiting for his friend to regain his composure; Ernest was usually quite emotional after deliberate physical contact. 

Freak,> Garu thought affectionately. 

Ernest's shoulders shook with stifled laughter, and he snatched away his hand. "I am not a freak," he returned, still sounding choked up. 

"Of course you're not," Garu said with blatantly false shock. "Who said you're a freak?" 

The other Candidate smacked his knuckles with a spoon, and he yanked it back, yelping. "We have to think about your insomnia now," said Ernest in a school teacher tone. 

"Yes, sir," Gareas returned smartly, and ducked from another blow of the spoon. 

Then, sobering, he took the situation into stock. Most options were out of his reach or beyond his means... so maybe... 

"I could try drinking myself into a stupor," he said, brightly. 

Ernest didn't even turn around. "I'm going to assume that you're joking. Even assuming you can get alcohol when you can't even get milk -- and I'm sure you'd manage it somehow -- I know you're not dumb enough to think that'll work. Although you certainly try." 

"Try what? To be dumb?" demanded Garu. 

Ernest, tactfully changing the subject, said neutrally, "You know, if you'd reconsider EX--" 

"I thought we were going to avoid being dumb," Gareas accused. 

He returned to his thoughts while Ernest shook his head and went back to eating. Something that'll help me sleep, something that'll wear me out... Can't involve any medicines or edibles... And exercise only leaves me with more energy...> 

All at once, it came to him. "Sex!" he cried. 

Ernest choked. 

Garu gave him an amused look. "Oh, don't be such a virgin," he said light-heartedly. 

The blond boy began hacking and coughing alarmingly, and Gareas ceased his teasing to pound on his friend's back helpfully. Ernest waved him away after a moment, muttered something in a raspy voice about broken ribs, and fixed his gaze on his tray. He appeared to have lost his appetite, and his face was so impossibly red that Garu feared he might burst a capillary. 

"It's not that bad a thought, is it?" he grumbled. Almost instantaneously Ernest whipped around to gape at him, blue eyes wide with shock. Garu blinked. "Don't have a heart attack. But if you're going to keep having a fit every time you think about me having sex, just STOP thinking about it." 

"I have NO idea what you mean," Ernest stated firmly, gathering the shreds of his dignity around him and trying not to look flustered. 

Gareas spread his hands. "I think it might be a good solution, though! I mean, I pass out in like twenty seconds after sex! So it makes sense, right?" 

There was no discernible lessening in the intensity of his blush, but Ernest SOUNDED perfectly calm when he answered, "I'm not certain I'm the person you ought to be talking about for that." 

Garu patted his shoulder, ignoring the uncomfortable way Ernest tensed at the obstructed contact. Good grief, it's not like it's direct skin-to-skin contact, here; I can't force him to read me by touching his shirt, for crying out loud.> He said sympathetically, "We'll find a girl for you someday, Ernest." 

"Good luck," Ernest muttered. Gareas refused to dignify that with a response, stood up, and looked around for Leena. 

Her friends had all left, and she was scanning the cafeteria in a similar way, most likely looking for him as well. He waved to her, and once she spotted him she headed straight over. 

"Here comes Leena," Garu informed Ernest cheerily, almost certain that his problems were over. 

"Oh, good," murmured the shorter boy, who got to his feet and picked up his tray. 

"Hey -- where're you going?" 

"I'm done eating," Ernest responded, motioning to his tray, which was still half-full. Ernest ate like a bird. "I thought maybe I should let you broach this subject... alone. You know." 

"You are WAY too easily embarrassed." Garu scowled. "You really OUGHT to get laid, it'll do wonders for your tolerance. What about Tune?" he suggested helpfully. "That girl worships the ground you walk on." 

Apparently, Ernest found this about as helpful as he'd found the fist slamming into his back a few moments before. "I'm not going to take advantage of her, she's just a girl," he snapped, defensive. "Besides, SOME of us like to maintain a strictly professional relationship with our Repairers--" 

"Fine, fine, be that way," Garu dismissed. Tune was in fact their age, but she was still practically a stranger to Ernest; his previous Repairer, who he hadn't been all that fond of either, had died in a Victim attack while on vacation to her home colony only a few months ago. Mouthy, obnoxious bitch had probably put him off women for life. 

But he couldn't let Ernest off without one last threat: "Someday I'll find out what your type is, and then we'll see how much longer you're a virgin!" 

Muted snickers rose from the Candidates seated near him, but Gareas glared them down. Make fun of Ernest while his back was turned, would they? 

As Ernest and Leena passed each other, they exchanged amiable nods and Leena said something that made them both laugh. Garu smiled in spite of himself; there was something about his two favorite people in all the universe getting along so naturally that just made him feel positively gleeful. 

Then Leena was seating herself across from him, expression cheerful; she obviously enjoyed Ernest's company almost as much as Garu did. "How are you?" she asked by way of greeting. 

"I think I've found a solution for my insomnia," he told her, hopeful for the first time in a long while. 

"Really? That's wonderful!" she cried, obviously as excited as he was. "What are you going to do, Garu?" 

"Well, I figure, sex always makes me fall asleep quickly." Gareas paused, looking at her expectantly. 

Leena hid a smile behind her fingers. "Oh, is that it?" She gave up and laughed. "You're lucky you have a girlfriend, then." 

Garu grinned. He'd been half-expecting her to refuse, either out of indignation at the prospect of being used as a means to an end, or because she was thinking seriously about taking him up on his offer and requesting a transfer to a more promising Candidate. "So can we try it tonight?" he asked eagerly. 

"As long as you promise it stays friendly and doesn't move into the realm of the serious," she warned, just as she had the first time he'd approached her on the matter. "You know perfectly well I'm not the one you were meant to be with, and you're not the one for me either." 

"Of course," Garu responded, just as he had the first time. "We're just having fun." He winked at her. 

"Well," she said, smiling back, "this time we're also being practical." Then she looked self-consciously over her shoulder at the exit. "I take it this is the reason Ernest left?" 

Leaning his head on his hand, Gareas waved vaguely. "You know how he is. He's really sensitive about this kind of thing. He nearly killed himself when I first mentioned the subject; he started actually THINKING about me having sex and probably freaked himself out." 

There was a pause, and then Leena gave him a curious glance. "You really think that's what it is?" 

"Sure. I mean, of course he's like that; he's never had sex. It's probably still kind of weird for him to think about it." 

The young woman studied the table and hummed thoughtfully. "I wonder..." 

* * *

There you have it. I don't see Garu and Leena as a real couple; it's my opinion that they're together because they're just having fun in the absence of anything more meaningful. ^^ They don't exactly act lovey-dovey; after Ernest dies she shows more concern in TUNE'S state of mind than Garu's, and Garu is half-lunatic, running around trying to beat up Teela (fat chance) and putting dents in the railing. 

At any rate, Leena is a sympathetic character. I can't dislike her in spite of the fact that she stands in the way of Garu/Ernest, so I don't want anybody else to, either. ^^ 

Everybody belongs to Yukiru Sugisaki, and even if she were selling them, I wouldn't have the money necessary to buy them. *sob* Maybe she'll give one to me as a charity gift! 

--Kay Willow, getting together the Counterpoint again   
AIM: Savinsilk   
Email: kay_willow@hotmail.com   
Quote: me and Erin-neesama, on her fic speculations -- 

"Now I have this mental image, and it may yet kill me with   
laughter." 

"You think it's funny; Ernest doesn't." 

"No, I imagine he doesn't, the poor thing. But that's okay,   
because we know what the point of this whole exercise in misery   
is, deshou?" 

"To get Ernest laid! Preferably with Garu."   
(Yeah, Neesama... PREFERABLY. *facefault* ) 


	4. Part 2: Counterpoint

ABSENTMINDED AUTHOR NOTES:   
The ecchibis have launched their assault; Ernest's mind gets caught in the crossfire... 

Sympathetic!Leena kicks in for a repeat performance, Ernest almost kills himself several times, and we get to see inside Garu's head from the point of view of someone rational -- ie, not Garu. ^^ 

WARNINGS:   
Shounen ai, shounen AI, SHOUNEN AI. Yep yep yep. Up the proverbial wazoo. Pro-Leena, normal timeline, long, and full awareness of how much it sucks to be a telepathist. Next! It takes me twenty minutes to romanize a single page of the manga, and even then my Japanese is rudimentary at best, so consequently I then have to feed it into the computer to get a mangled translation, which I then have to translate into normal English, and only THEN can I understand what's going on, so my knowledge of the manga-verse is preliminary at best. Expect me to improvise and make up stuff I don't know. 

GUIDE FOR FUTURE REFERENCE: 

Words like this> are normal thoughts. When a telepathist reads a person, these are the kinds of thoughts he'd feel. 

~Words like this~> are deliberate telepathic contact. Only a skilled telepathist can come across strongly enough to send this strongly. Someone with no EX can not discern this from their own thoughts, making it mental manipulation, which is highly illegal. 

::Words like this:: are Ernest's special brand of telepathic contact. He uses his powerful empathy to boost his relatively weak skill at telepathy, using his strengths to cover his weaknesses. 

There are reasons and logic behind all the different brands of contact, the different brackets I used to indicate them, even the   
commentary ABOUT the contacts... but you're probably not interested. ^^ I rationalize things too much. As a matter of fact, most of that isn't even important for this chapter. Well... On with the fic!   
  


* * *

SEDIMENTARY PERCUSSION   
CHAPTER 2: Counterpoint   
by Kay Willow   


I can only imagine that Garu made a concerted effort to kill me today. 

All week, he'd been so focused on exercising that every time I reached out to check up on him, it was the only thing I could sense. By the third night of his thoughts roiling ceaselessly in the empty space left by the darkness, I knew that it wasn't going to work. The only effect his exercising had was to make his thoughts the more frustrated and unhappy, making them stronger, and they seethed against my own and rendered me sleepless as well. 

Once this week, he commented on how I looked tired, too. The fact that he'd noticed something so small made me float on air for the next two days. 

And no sooner had I recovered from that than he announced to me that he'd officially given up. When we were at lunch. He ALWAYS likes to spring things on me at lunch, even though you'd think he'd realize that I'm not at my best in the cafeteria, surrounded by strangers and acquaintances and none of them bothering to check their emotions. With so many people feeling such a wide variety of things so powerfully... physical contact is totally unnecessary to have their thoughts and wishes carry to me. 

And he expected me to be able to handle his problems effortlessly. He's so thoughtless sometimes. 

"That's because you're not doing it right. You're supposed to ease down before you stop; you can't just suddenly decide you've had enough and flop into bed and expect to fall asleep," was the best I could manage, while still accustoming myself to the sudden press of the crowd. 

"That's not what I'm doing!" Sure it isn't, Garu. "But I don't know WHAT you want from me!" Oh, you're definitely right about THAT. "What do you mean, ease down?" 

I figured he must have been joking. So I responded in kind, "It's kind of like warming up, but the other way around!" 

He didn't find it very amusing. I began to realize that he really had no idea that when a normal person exercises, they start slow and end slow, for their own sake. He just plunges right into the hardcore lifting and running, never mind the risks. 

And why? "It's boring." 

"Boring?" Only Gareas Elidd could ever think that SAFETY was boring. "Garu, you could seriously hurt yourself if you force your body right into a strenuous activity; what if you sprain something--" 

Garu's temper kindled at what he perceived as a challenge, and he set out to prove me wrong in the worst possible way. "What, you don't think I can handle exercise? This is me we're talking about, Ernest! My body can take anything you throw at it!" 

Maybe I'm perverted, but I took that TOTALLY the wrong way. I felt myself blushing as I said awkwardly, "Ah. Well, I don't doubt that--" 

But he wouldn't let it go. "Here, look, put your hand on my thigh." 

And he proceeded to take my hand and do it for me. 

The moment he touched me I felt a connection span between us, and when he placed my palm on his bare skin... 

You can't know how intimate that skin really is -- how much vitality and life focuses and passes under that skin -- unless you're a telepathist, and I'm not going to try to explain it. But the connection you'd feel when you touch someone there... it's very intensely personal. 

But... but even so... Am I a pervert? I can't help thinking that it's considered perfectly normal for a normal sixteen-year-old boy to lust after the female friends that a few years ago were far less attractive than chocolate pudding. Maybe I'm not a pervert, maybe I'm just a little left of the norm, maybe I'm just rambling to avoid going into detail about what I was thinking at that point in time... 

He continued, totally oblivious to my embarrassment, "I'm NOT just going to tear a ligament, pal, not with THIS body--" 

I almost told him that I wasn't really concerned with his ligaments at the moment. Instead, thankfully, what came out of my mouth was a vaguely breathless, "Garu, really, I believe you! Stop--!" 

I've never been so thankful in my life for the loud and terrifying presence of Chef. 

I bowed my head to hide my red face behind my hair and attempted to tune out their conversation and my own embarrassment. He really is... He really is so thoughtless... 

"EAT!" 

Startled out of my inner turmoil, I reacted automatically to Chef's voice by taking hold of my tray like a lifeline and running. Reflex. 

We seated ourselves in the back; although Leena was there, Garu didn't feel like sitting near her. He'd even gone so far as to take her depression -- for his sake! -- to be ruined dreams of her own. He told me that he'd given her the chance to leave him for a less problematic Candidate... and that she hadn't, outright, refused. 

Garu, you moron. Why can't you see how fanatically loyal to you we all are? Leena would no sooner apply for a transfer than she would deliberately sabotage you in battle.> 

As we began to eat, Gareas' formerly collected emotions scattered to the winds. We weren't touching, but his every emotion came across to me clearly all the same, as they so often do when we're close: despairing and outraged and defensive. I think I'm lucky that telepathy itself has to be a deliberate effort -- if just being near him forced me to listen to every thought in his head, I think I might already be insane. 

I had to help him somehow. My empathy has made me painfully aware of how much every action can mean, no matter how small or unimportant. 

So I made another small and unimportant attempt. "You can try drinking more milk... Milk is an agonist of the serotonin hormone, which helps you sleep..." 

Looking back, I sounded like an encyclopedia. Or worse -- Dr. Rill. Small wonder he didn't so much as blink. 

"Where do you propose I GET milk?" he retorted, frustration coloring his tone. "Do we have cows on board GOA? Maybe I should ask CHEF for some. Sure, and then get a quart of this flavorless energy drink shoved down my throat by a madman demanding to know why what he gives me isn't GOOD enough." 

I stared at the questionable blue liquid in my own and remembered the one time I'd gotten up the nerve to ask Chef what it was; he'd responded with a long and extremely loud dissertation involving essential vitamins and stimulated neurons and other things guaranteed to make wannabe Pilots like myself strong and lively if I would just shut up and DRINK! I tried to muster a sincere grin. "Maybe you should stop drinking the energy drink." 

He practically splattered his food-like substance with the force of his infuriated stab. "And get jumped by admin-types who've been watching me on the cameras, making sure I don't dehydrate on top of everything else?" Garu snarled, every word a study in negative emotion that bludgeoned what remained of my good mood. 

I'm taking this far too lightly,> I decided with a sinking heart, and sighed. This is very serious to him; in his mind it's the death of his dreams, even though I can see that he's so close to the solution only willful ignorance keeps him from realizing it... I should be more sensitive to his plight. How can I call myself his best friend, how can I say that I love him this much, and then find amusement in his suffering...?> 

Then -- without warning, because I'd been guiltily staring at my tray instead of being observant -- his hand was on mine, and I had no chance to recoil from the physical contact before Garu showed me himself. 

Yes, there was the swirling darkness of his anger and misery and even fear, but those were dim shadows of a brighter, stronger emotion. Repentance. It spoke more eloquently than thoughtless Gareas ever could, and it told me that he was sorry for having taken his unhappiness out on me, told me that he was sorry for being so abrupt, told me that he didn't mean -- could never mean -- any slight to me. 

And accompanying that were the subconscious but omnipresent emotions that are his opinion of me: appreciation and affection and unconditional acceptance. There wasn't LOVE there -- not the way I love him -- but it was such a beautiful thing that I am overwhelmed and awed by it every time he let me see it. 

There were tears in my eyes when I finally found myself able to lift my head and smile at him again. I slipped my hand around so that my fingers could curl and lock against his, and he let me, just being there and letting me see his amused relief at my reaction. 

Freak,> Garu's deliberate thought came to me clearly through the contact. 

I snatched my hand away from him and had to fight back laughter, because if I laughed I would cry, too, and I couldn't do that, not in front of him. "I am not a freak," I protested faintly, trying to calm myself in the wake of that rush of emotion. 

"Of course you're not!" Garu cried, literally radiating insincerity. "Who said you're a freak?" 

I seized the closest weapon -- a spoon -- and rapped him sharply on the knuckles with it. He yelped and clutched it close to his chest with a great show of wounded dignity. "We have to think about your insomnia now," I announced with authority. 

He saluted. "Yes, sir!" Mocking me, the thoughtless creature. I waved the spoon at him threateningly. 

And then, all at once, he got serious again. Garu had mastered the art of going from silly to sober at will; life with him could never be boring when he can be laughing and playful in one moment and then serious and intent the next, no warning whatsoever. It's one of the reasons our instructors are so careful around him -- they can't predict when he'll lose his casual laid-back air and suddenly turn on them, offended or furious for something they didn't even realize was derogatory. 

But apparently he wasn't TOO serious, because his next comment was a chipper, "Maybe I could drink myself into a stupor!" 

Oh, Garu. Wouldn't you just love that chance.> "I'm going to assume that you're joking," I told him coolly without missing a beat. "Even assuming you can get alcohol when you can't even get milk -- and I'm sure you'd manage it somehow -- I know you're not dumb enough to think that'll work. Although you certainly try." 

"Try what? To be dumb?" 

Now there's a loaded question if ever I heard one.> I decided to make another effort. Maybe he'd listen to reason this time. "You know, if you'd reconsider EX--" 

"I thought we were trying to avoid being dumb." 

Maybe, for my next trick, I could put an elephant in a space suit and send it out to trample the Victim to death. I shook my head, sighed, and went back to my lunch. He just won't do things the easy way. Every time I mentioned EX, he just appeared to become more and more convinced that it wasn't going to help him. He wanted my help, but he probably wanted to come up with the solution by himself. 

Clearly, at his next announcement, he thought he'd found the solution. 

"Sex!" 

Now, I don't think I was totally out of line to react with instinctive surprise, swallowing too fast and nearly choking on my food. When the object of all your hormone-driven teenage fantasies suddenly chooses to change the topic to the one thing you devoutly pray he has decided to indulge in with you -- that, or never have it ever again with anyone else -- a little shock is understandable, don't you think? 

Garu didn't know about this, of course, and he found my brush with death very amusing. He even added helpfully, "Oh, don't be such a virgin," to which I DEARLY wanted to reply that I WOULDN'T if he'd just DO something about it, but I was busy trying to kill myself on the wedge of food stuck in my throat. If I die,> was my clever reasoning, I won't have to explain to Garu why I'm having such a difficult time wrapping my mind around the concept.> 

Then he proceeded to slam his fist repeatedly into my back, and I hurriedly recovered before he killed me in an attempt to save my life. "Someday you're going to break my ribs," I croaked, but it mangled somewhere around the sore region of my throat and came out completely unrecognizable. I don't know how he interpreted it, because I wasn't moving my eyes from the treacherous, hateful food on my plate. I pondered eating it some more, but I no longer had the motivation, and besides which, Gareas was still on his TOPIC and I'd probably choke again. 

Sure enough... 

"It's not that bad a thought, is it?" 

For a brief heartrending moment I thought that he was asking because he'd planned on having sex with ME; I spun around and stared at him and can only thank whatever powers are watching that I know better than to broadcast, because even Garu would clue in if I smacked him in the face with my hopeful disbelief. Then I figured it out. 

Garu, you can be SO thoughtless sometimes. The only thing "bad" about that idea is that you'll be having sex with someone ELSE.> 

Having noticed my surprise but misconstrued it, Garu hastened to add, "Don't have a heart attack. But if you're going to keep having a fit every time you think about me having sex, just STOP thinking about it." 

I shook my head vaguely. It'd be NICE to be able to stop thinking about it, but it didn't seem to be in my immediate future. Not the way MY thoughts were going. I forced myself to straighten and said as authoritatively as possible with 'denial' written all over my face in bright red, "I have NO idea what you mean." 

Thankfully, he didn't call me out on it, and went on with his next point instead. "I think it might be a good solution, though! I mean, I pass out in like twenty seconds after sex! So it makes sense, right?" 

Yet again I had to bite my lip against what I WANTED to say and told him honestly, "I'm not certain I'm the person you ought to be talking about for that." Any more embarrassed and I would've started to sweat. Maybe you should be talking to someone who doesn't have a personal stake in this, who doesn't want to be the other person in this scenario enough to sell his own soul, who doesn't get rendered semi-catatonic by the mere mention of you having sex...> 

Apparently pitying my lack of sexual experience -- Damn you, Garu, why can't you feel the same and spare me this misery?> -- he clapped a hand on my shoulder. I stiffened unconsciously at the touch, blocked only by a thin layer of fabric that I both cursed and damned, which both saved me and destroyed me. 

"We'll find a girl for you someday, Ernest," he told me with irrepressible good cheer, and I wanted to hit him for being so blind and kiss him until he never thought about the sheer absurdity of me with a girl ever again. 

"Good luck," I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster, and I STILL don't think it entirely hid the bitterness in my voice. Fortunately, Garu is NOT a telepathist, and he had no reason to be observing my emotions anyway. 

And then he called Leena over, and I knew that it was time for me to take my leave. No matter how close to me he might think he is, Leena was his girlfriend. If I know anything about personal relations, it's that you don't get between a man and his girlfriend -- or a girlfriend and her man, for that matter. 

Garu didn't understand that. He said with surprise, "Hey -- where're you going?" 

"I'm done eating." I'm fleeing for my life,> I edited internally. "I thought maybe I should let you broach this subject... alone. You know." 

Watching my best friend, the love of my life, the subject of my every dream, proposition our mutual friend in front of my eyes is something I could definitely do without. Especially today. I'm off my kilter today. Not in control of my body, my thoughts, or my emotions. I don't know how this happened, but it needs to get fixed in the next few hours, or I'm doomed...> 

Perhaps my pain entertained Gareas, because he wasn't willing to let me off the hook. "You are WAY too easily embarrassed. You really ought to get laid, it'll do wonders for your tolerance." 

Kissing him was a powerful urge, yes. But hitting him was winning. I was getting tired of my own mind taking his comments and turning them back at him, and the best way to stop myself from doing that is to stop HIM from talking. 

And THEN he said, "What about Tune? That girl worships the ground you walk on." 

He was trying to push a girl at me. My own Repairer, no less. The other boys used to tell me I should look to Serisse for companionship and romance, that I was STRANGE for not trying to get in her pants the way THEY were with THEIR Repairers, and Serisse apparently shared that opinion. I don't think I ever heard a noncritical word from her in the half-year that we were partnered. 

Then when she died they paired me with Tune; Garu isn't wrong to say that she thinks she's in love with me, but I could never feel the same. If not because of him, then because I'm not interested in someone so idolizing. I'd want someone who was my equal. 

The only person who could make me feel like I was a human being -- not a god, not a telepathist, not a bizarre or worthless nobody -- had always been Garu. 

"I'm not going to take advantage of her," I told him angrily, trying to express my disgust at the very idea without relating any of it back to him, "she's just a girl! Besides, SOME of us like to maintain a strictly professional relationship with our Repairers--" 

That would've been a mistake, if Gareas had been the observant type. Might as well give me a sign. 'Hi,' it would read, 'I'm Ernest Cuore, and I'm jealous of my best friend's Repairer because she gets to sleep with him...' 

But Gareas was NOT the observant type. Gareas was the thoughtless type. "Fine, fine, be that way," he returned casually, obviously not thinking of the matter any further. 

Relieved, I made my way down the row of tables, only to hear Garu call out behind me, "Someday I'll find out what your type is, and then we'll see how much longer you're a virgin!" 

And all my prayers would come true on that day, but it'll never happen, never in a million years, and we don't even have that many...> 

I passed Leena on the way up to the counter; she smiled at my red cheeks sympathetically and commented under her breath, "He's about as subtle as an elephant in a spacesuit, ne?" 

Despite my surprise at the way her joke mirrored my thoughts from earlier, I laughed with her, unable to help myself. There were days when I wished with all my soul that I could hate Leena for what she's stolen from me, but it simply isn't possible. She's a fun-loving and caring person who takes everyone into her heart; she has the unique gift of making all people her friend, and it was beyond me to resist her. She might have Garu, but I couldn't dislike her even a little. 

The best part, though, is probably that she knows. Every time I stood near her and her emotions reached out to mine, I sensed a vague feeling of awareness. I think that Leena realizes that I love Garu, and goes out of her way to be there for me and to share things with me. Sometimes I even think that she would step aside and let me have a chance if only I were strong enough... 

And we walked on. Leena went to join Gareas where he waited for her, and I headed away from them both. 

Something had to be done. I had to get myself together. Before lights out.   


* * *

  
That night, I was unable to sleep for a long time, just staring into the darkness and blocking out my connection to Gareas as best I could. 

As it turns out, he really does fall asleep only moments after sex. 

* * *

  
In unison, come on everybody! "Poor Ernest~!" 

They don't belong to me~, they belong to BUNNY-SENSEI~, and damn is she ever lucky... 

--Kay Willow   
AIM: Savinsilk   
Email: kay_willow@h...   
Quote: Li-san and I, talking about Japanese dialects -- 

"They have a characterization where one ends sentences in   
degojaru and the other deojaru, both of which are corruptions   
of degozaru, which is just the archaic form of the 'be' verb   
(desu/da). The normal grammar/Yoda grammar thing was done so   
that we would get a weird, but still readable effect while we   
who speak English have nothing even vaguely similar to desu. ^^ 

"Hey, 'de gojaru' is in Tenshi ni Narumon~!" 

"Did you know what it meant?" 

"I had a vague feeling it was related to 'desu', because it was   
at the end of Papa's EVERY SENTENCE..." 


	5. Part 3: Point

ABSENTMINDED AUTHOR NOTES:   
Nothing much to say here... ^^ You're almost at the end, people! (No you're not. The epilogue is in three pieces, and there's still the counterpoint...) 

WARNINGS:   
Continuing pro-Leena. Hints of shounen ai. Looooong. Not quite normal universe, but not an alternate universe. Stuff I made up. Yeah. 

* * *

SEDIMENTARY PERCUSSION   
CHAPTER 3: Point   
by Kay Willow   


As one might expect, Gareas heartily enjoyed himself for the next week. He was, of course, immensely concerned about his future. But he was also a teenaged boy, and as such quite naturally enthusiastic about any opportunity to justify casual sex on a daily basis. 

It wasn't an easy thing to pull off. GOA was primarily a military academy, after all, and sexual relations were frowned upon. Ordinarily, this wouldn't have stopped nearly as many people as it did... but GOA was ALSO a densely-populated space station. Privacy was at a premium when three thousand people were crammed onto a single satellite, as many as three to a room; cameras monitored nearly everywhere, and there was constant activity in even the most unimportant of areas. There was no sanctuary for a would-be amorous couple; GOA, as a whole, was simply public domain. 

Then, even if a Candidate DID succeed in finding a place that would serve... Well, ancestors help him if he chose the wrong person to be with. If that Repairer -- or other Candidate, for that matter -- mentioned to even one other person... and that one other person notified only TWO other people... Before long it was public knowledge. He might not have a promiscuous reputation, but it wasn't his reputation that he needed to worry about. Instructors had been known to deal out punishments even on rumors, and it was worth a Candidate's rank AND a week in solitary confinement if it was confirmed. 

Garu had it easy. The top ten ranking Candidates were given private rooms in recognition of their skill, so privacy was covered. Leena was his Repairer, and "bonding" between Pilot and Repairer was encouraged in GOA; it was not unknown for pairs to sleep in the same bed, although in the lower ranks this contact was strictly monitored. Bonding was encouraged -- mating was not. 

Even so, primarily the administration allowed it because they knew what Gareas was trying to do. If this worked, they most likely reasoned, he would be a Pilot soon enough, and this sort of behavior wasn't regulated for Pilots. If it didn't work... then maybe being allowed to have consolation sex would keep him from doing something reckless, like killing himself -- or worse -- the administration. 

But Garu's luck was looking up. 

It was working. For six nights, he'd slept well and deeply, the whole night through without disturbance. Leena had been a warm, solid presence at his back the whole time, as satiated and dead to the world as he'd been. He suspected that merely having someone slumbering beside him was as helpful as the boneless exhaustion after climax. The sex was nice, and certainly his lassitude afterwards was a considerable benefit for someone his situation, but he felt as though there was something soothing about simply being with another person. He'd first noticed that he found it easier to relax quite a while back, when he'd been in solitary confinement and nearly wound up hysterical before Ernest had for the first time reached out and touched his mind and reassured him that he wasn't alone. 

Whatever the cause... he was sleeping. 

"I think the admin are changing their minds," Garu said gleefully, throwing himself down onto the bench next to Ernest on the seventh morning. The blond boy looked up from his breakfast, more surprised than he should've been -- Slacker, was he not paying attention? If he isn't alert, Azuma will gut him and hang him out to dry.> -- as Leena slid in across from them. 

Ernest blinked. "About... Oh! Your insomnia! It's gone?" He glanced at Leena self-consciously. 

She grinned at the younger boy conspiratorially and whispered loudly, "I'm half convinced he made it up just so he could get laid." 

"Hey!" 

Ernest smiled back at her, mischief visibly brightening his whole demeanor. "I wouldn't put it past him," he returned in the same tone, leaning across the table so that it seemed all the more secretive. "After all, isn't he the one who ran around telling me that every healthy male our age should be having sex? He probably felt like his manhood was suffering without it..." 

"Okay, that's enough about my manhood, thanks," Garu inserted dryly. He felt great. Just last week he would've been snapping defensively at their good-natured joking, but today it was as if all his problems had evaporated. He was more than great, he was perfect! 

"Are you absolutely sure?" Leena teased. 

"Why not? He's secure in his manliness. He's got enough testosterone for six normal Candidates," Ernest told her with amusement. 

Garu kicked Ernest's foot under the table and resumed his train of thought. "My insomnia is GONE, and I'm feeling GREAT, and today the Instructors were beaming at me during rhythm practice, so I think I'm going to get approved soon!" 

"That's so wonderful, Gareas," his friend told him warmly. "I couldn't be happier for you." 

Only half-hearing him, Garu continued enthusiastically, "When I go in for my morning report tomorrow, it'll be a full week. A full week!" Then he paused. "Ernest, what's wrong with you? You look sick." 

Ernest was not, in fact, looking well. He seemed worn and haggard somehow; his uniform hung on him loosely and his hair was rumpled and had been tied back into a loose ponytail -- a habit Garu knew he only indulged in when he was either working too hard or stressing too much. It had become a visual sign for Gareas to recognize when Ernest needed a helping hand to get back on track. 

It must've been a subconscious thing, because Ernest never appeared to realize that he was constantly putting his hair back when he was in a bad state; he was unfailingly stunned by Garu's seeming insight. Garu had never enlightened him. He rather liked it when Ernest got tongue-tied and surprised; the shorter boy was usually so level and calm that it was practically an achievement to catch him off-guard. 

Once he'd finished gaping at Garu's patently insincere sagacious expression, Ernest glanced down at his breakfast, a faint hint of red on his cheekbones. "To tell you the truth, I think I must've caught your insomnia." He laughed faintly. 

"Liar," Garu said flatly. "What's keeping you up?" 

Ernest shrugged, collected again. "Erts... My little brother has been reaching out to me in the night. He's very... frightened lately. I think they're talking about starting him as a Candidate." 

Gareas paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, wracking his brain for what little he knew of Ernest's brother. Ernest didn't talk about him much, but then, Ernest was a very private person, and he tended to keep to himself about things that were special to him, as if afraid that fate would steal away everything he loved. Once he'd found the appropriate memory, he did a quick mental addition and blinked. "He's only thirteen," he protested. "They're not allowed to take on boys as Candidates until they're at fourteen -- at the very least." 

"They're trying to get a special dispensation for Erts," the other boy said, apparently not appreciating Garu's TRUE observational skills. "He performs with the Cueval flawlessly... they really want to get him a Repairer and a Pro-Ing of his own so that they can put him on the battlefield..." Ernest frowned. "Erts isn't ready for that. If he goes into a fight against the Victim without knowing what he's in for, then he could get hurt..." 

"The same goes for every Candidate," Leena pointed out. 

"No, I mean, because of his EX," he told her, distraught. "We're both telepathists, but we have our own specialties. I'm very good at dealing with emotions, but I have a hard time with strict telepathy. But Erts is very talented with his telepathy -- it's his empathy he can't control. Instead of sorting and managing the emotions that come to him, he just reels along with them. They HURT him, Leena, and if GOA asks him to read the Victim for them..." 

Leena looked almost sick. "But you've never shown any adverse side-effects from the contact," she said unhappily. "Why should--" 

Ernest sighed and repeated, "Erts can't control his empathy. At all. Even I don't have a mastery over it, but I can at least tone it down and block out the excess. Erts can't. Empathy isn't natural with him. If he deliberately reached out to the Victim..." 

"He wouldn't be able to block out the painful parts, right?" Garu speared a stalk of something crispy that might've been a carrot -- or maybe celery -- with grim determination. 

"Yes." 

"And he's afraid of that?" 

Leena switched her blue energy drink for Ernest's half-empty green one while he wasn't looking, then scolded, "Of course he is. The poor thing; wouldn't YOU be afraid, if you were stuck feeling everything one of those horrible Victim felt while a squadron of Pro-Ings and five Goddesses bludgeoned it to death?" 

"I couldn't POSSIBLY be in that situation, but I suppose you have a point anyway," Garu replied glibly. "And is that what's keeping you up night?" 

Ernest nodded wordlessly, looking flushed again. Maybe he has a fever?> Garu wondered, concerned. He'd better hope not; Dr. Rill would amputate his head if she thought it would cure him.> 

Pushing that worry aside, Garu made a face at him. "Your little brother better not mar my promotion by having a nervous breakdown." 

Laughing, Ernest was about to answer in kind when he noticed that his energy drink had spontaneously changed color and regenerated half its volume. Leena sat innocently across from him and took another modest sip from the green energy drink. He leveled her with a mournful look. "You took my drink," he complained, only barely managing to hide the thread of amusement in his voice. 

Leena fluttered her eyelashes and drew circles on the table with her finger. "I like the green better," she wheedled back. 

Ernest continued to gaze at the drink with heartbreaking wistfulness. Garu nearly choked on his own energy drink, snickering hysterically and trying his best to keep out of their way. Ernest plays his trump card!> he thought, and was wracked by another paroxysm of silent laughter. 

Dimly, he heard Ernest say, "You do not. You only wanted it because it was almost empty." 

Leena slammed the drink down on the table, spilling most of it, and jumped to her feet so she could run around the table and hug Ernest. "Puppy-dog eyes!" she trilled as the breath whooshed out of her prey. "I just can't resist when you do those puppy-dog eyes!" 

"My drink," Ernest mourned when she loosened her grip enough to let him speak. "I worked so hard to force that stuff down..." 

Garu casually picked up the blue drink and dumped the entire thing onto the floor. They blinked at him. Silence fell across the cafeteria. Then Chef's voice suddenly raised in an outraged roar from the counter, and his friends winced from the sound and glared at him. He said brightly, "So nobody has to drink it!" 

* * *

The next morning, he went to see Dr. Rill, as he had every morning since undertaking the quest for his own 'cure': standard GOA policy for self-treatment. 

"Well?" she asked, running a basic physical while she worked. "How did it go last night?" 

"Horrible," he answered dully, staring at the ceiling without seeing it, wishing he could so easily dismiss her sudden start and sad expression. "I didn't sleep a wink." 

There'd been a drill. Instructor Nerala had summoned all the Repairers to the maintenance bay for a surprise inspection of their emergency training; Leena had worked all through the night and stood on ceremony for longer while Nerala gave them their evaluations, and had simply returned to her own room with the others and collapsed when they were finished, in the small hours of the morning. 

Garu wished she'd came to his room instead. He'd been awake anyway. 

Without the warmth of another person near him, his peace of mind had fled. Without the languor that followed sex, he found himself unable to sink into rest. His insomnia had returned with a vengeance, and he had not slept for a single minute, not the whole night long. 

It was only a temporary solution, like all the others. The minute he came back badly wounded, and he was unable to perform sexually even assuming that Leena wasn't preoccupied with fixing his Ingrid, he would be useless to his fellow Pilots. Even if they were willing to put up with the inconvenience, it wouldn't be a mere inconvenience if Zion was destroyed for his lack of sleep. 

It's not fair. It's JUST not fair.> Gareas leaned back as Dr. Rill indicated, noticing the thoughtful look on her face. Today should've been the day. I would've been officially pronounced cured and gotten my promotion and I'd be Piloting Sarne Mollan's Nera Varias from tomorrow on. Except she'd be MINE.> 

Dr. Rill commented, "Nothing wrong with you physically. The problem appears to be in here." She tapped his forehead with one sharp nail, and he hissed. "As with so many other of your problems," she added tartly. 

"I hardly need the sarcasm," Garu snapped at her. "I'm sure I'll be the laughingstock of the Academy once I'm passed up for promotion!" 

"You still have a chance." 

He blinked. "But... how much longer can they use Sarne if his EX is exhausted? How much longer can they afford to just WAIT for me--?" 

"Tomorrow," Dr. Rill said coldly. "Next week the Victim swarm's migration is predicted to return to full intensity. The new Pilot must be in tune with his Goddess by that time. A golden opportunity has been gone. Sarne was piloting with fair accuracy for a while, but earlier this morning he completely failed to establish a link with NOAH Z-M-N-V, and we all know perfectly well that it had nothing to do with her. You have one more night to prove yourself before someone else moves up in your place." 

"And how am I going to do THAT?" he demanded. 

"By sleeping well tonight." Dr. Rill picked up her stethoscope and arched an eyebrow pointedly. "Alone."   
  


* * *

That afternoon, Gareas went looking for Ernest. 

He and Dr. Rill had talked straight through breakfast, and he'd gotten permission to have a "brunch" with her help, although in so doing he'd forfeited his right to have a normal lunch with the others. Ernest's group met for odd hours; Garu knew that the other boy often had the entire afternoon free. So Gareas, fed up with GOA in general and himself in particular, skipped his own session with Instructor Azuma, uncaring how much trouble he got in later with the admin and his own group. 

A quick drilling of Ernest's terrified roommate assured him that Ernest had gone out for one of his most common extracurricular activities: wasting time in the relaxation room. This told him a lot more than it apparently told his roommate -- while the other boy thought that Ernest went to the relaxation room when he wanted to be by himself, Garu knew better. The reason Ernest's visits there had been so frequent in the past had been because he was LONELY; he'd always wanted someone to reach out and make him normal, even before he knew what normal meant. Now that he had friends, the only reason he went to the relaxation room was when he was desperately bored and hoped that somebody would come along with something interesting for him to do. 

Going from the hallway to the relaxation room was an experience, as always; a planet simply seemed to EXPLODE into life around him, and suddenly there was fresh air! And grass and trees and herbs and all sorts of living things, even a few animals... Algae-rich green ponds and clear blue skies and fluffy white clouds, nothing but nature as far as the eye could see, with a mock horizon in the distance across the chamber and even a synthetic "sun"... It was as if this was the real world, and the gray enclosed space station before it had been only a tinny dream. 

Gareas loved the relaxation room, although he didn't spend much time there. Too many rules – don't pick the grass, don't step on anything that WASN'T grass, don't climb the trees, don't touch the animals, don't FEED the animals, don't go near the water with anything less natural than your own physical body and a GOA standard-admission swimsuit… But the wind chased away all his hesitations, and he always enjoyed himself despite the limitations. 

He spotted Ernest fairly quickly, even in the vastness of the relaxation room; his friend had changed out of his Candidate uniform, and he was the only person in the entire spring-simulated chamber wearing thick pants and a long-sleeved turtleneck shirt. 

Telepathists are always very careful to leave as little skin showing as possible, aren't they? Minimizes the possibility of skin-to-skin contact, nonsense like that....> Gareas hurried forward, temporarily having forgotten why he'd come and thinking mischievous thoughts about throwing Ernest into the pond. Ha, I'd like to see him walk around in two layers of SOAKING WET woolen clothing!> 

But as he approached, he gradually slowed, until finally he stood over his friend with resigned amusement. 

Ernest was sleeping. 

It figures.> 

He was stretched out and perfectly at ease in the planetary setting, dozing gently while the breeze tugged at his hair and the folds of his clothes. He didn't have a care in the world, not in this place; he was just somebody else there to absorb the atmosphere. 

Garu didn't have the heart to wake him up and whine at him. Ernest had his own life and his own problems -- his EX, his little brother, his training -- and Gareas certainly wasn't going to come at him in his moment of rest and force him to take on new burdens. 

"You ungrateful brat," he muttered at the slumbering form. "Here I am, my life over because I can't sleep, and here you are, throwing my inability in my face." 

At that moment Ernest shifted, and Garu took a step back, feeling guilty already. But Ernest only rolled onto his side and adjusted himself to be more comfortable, then returned to his dreams. 

After a long second, Garu snorted and sank down to the grass. Carefully, he shifted next to Ernest and just laid back, suddenly tired beyond measure. It would be very nice,> he thought wearily, closing his eyes and taking in the serenity all around him, if I could only get some sleep...> 

When he opened his eyes next, the relaxation room had given up all pretense at daylight; reds and oranges streaked the setting, and several dozen people had gathered by the pond, watching the "sun" setting across the "mountains". Ernest was sitting up, arms hugging his knees to his chest, staring at the phenomenon, entranced, as though he might never have the chance to see it again. 

Garu stretched, working out a crick in his back, no less than amazed at himself. He'd been soundly asleep for three, maybe four hours. It really must be the contact,> he concluded, shaking his head. I can sleep like a baby next to somebody I trust. That's great to know… except that it's useless unless I take a lover among the Pilots.> 

Ernest turned slowly from the illusory show and smiled at his awakening companion, then threw himself back onto the ground next to him and rested his head on his folded arms. "This was nice," he said, voice muffled by his shirt. "I can't recall a better-spent afternoon." 

In spite of himself, Garu grinned. "Believe it or not, I didn't come here so we could snuggle." 

His response was a startled, frozen look, and then Ernest moved his head slightly so that he wasn't looking at his green-haired friend. "I didn't mean it like that," he said neutrally. 

Garu clapped him on the shoulder, once again ignoring the automatic spasming of tense muscles under his hand. "Don't get all apologetic," he ordered cheerily. "Because I'm the one who's come to beg YOUR forgiveness, after all." 

Instantly, Ernest shied back and was on his knees in alarm, staring. "What?" Between his incredulous expression, raised eyebrows, and downright disbelieving tone, Garu had gotten him again. 

Then it was time to get serious. No longer even remotely sleepy, Garu straightened and said simply, "It didn't work after all." 

"Wha..." 

"Leena couldn't be with me last night. And I couldn't sleep. At all. Not for a moment." 

Ernest looked heartbroken. Gareas wasn't sure if he wanted to cry for what he was losing, or just embrace his best friend for being such a wonderful caring person in the midst of his quandary. He opted for continuing and praying that he was right. 

"I've got one more night," he said, his voice shaking a little. "If I can get to sleep without needing someone with me, then I've proven that my insomnia is controllable and last night was just a fluke. And I know… and I know that it WASN'T, but I need to do SOMETHING, and…" Gareas curled his hands into fists unconsciously, then added firmly, "You said you thought you knew something I could do to cure this, didn't you? Something about EX. What was it?" 

The blond boy appeared to have relapsed into his previous state of shock. He shook himself and said slowly, "Garu..." 

And he smiled. Warmly and hopefully. Garu could feel his body sag with relief at the sight; whatever this was, Ernest was certain of it. "This WILL work," Ernest said, confirming his thoughts. "I promise you that I can help you--" 

"CANDIDATE #39!!" 

Both boys jerked around reflexively, not to mention else everyone within hearing. Instructor Kyu stood in the doorway, ridiculous antiquated military fatigues stained blood-red by the mock sunset. He glared holes in Ernest's head as the blond belatedly scrambled to his feet and saluted. 

"What is the meaning of this, #39?" he snarled. "Not in uniform, not in class, your Repairer nearly hysterical with worry... and you're HERE, in the RELAXATION ROOM, with THIS FAILURE?" 

Gareas stiffened with rage and snarled wordlessly at the deadly insult. NOBODY said something like that about him -- especially not if it was true. 

"He's not a failure, sir," Ernest cut in staunchly, tripping Garu neatly with one outstretched foot. Garu caught himself before falling, but when he turned to Ernest he saw only confidence in that warm blue gaze. "He's already got his insomnia beat." 

"That's not what I heard." Kyu sneered at the pair, then turned his back on them. "If you're not in the war room in five minutes, dressed and ready for your turn, I'm penalizing you a rank." 

"'War room'?" Gareas demanded at the retreating Instructor. "What sort of an asshole calls the Pro-Ing training arena a WAR ROOM?" But he demanded it under his breath. 

Ernest sagged limply, visibly worn out by the brief confrontation. He was so much stronger than he'd been months ago that Garu sometimes forgot that he was still far from as confident as he seemed. "I'm never going to make it in five minutes," the shorter boy groaned, then fell into a sprint. 

"Wa... Wait!" Gareas cried, following on his heels. "What about the cure?!" 

"I'll tell you tonight!" Ernest tossed back over his shoulder. "Just open up when I call you, okay?" 

Garu's feet dragged at the ground, and he stopped, watching his friend -- and his last hope -- vanish down the metallic corridor.   


* * *

That night Gareas was frustrated, tense, unhappy, and desperately afraid. What could Ernest possibly intend that it wasn't already too late for? He couldn't be coming to the room because he didn't have the security clearance, so how was he going to contact Gareas? What if it didn't WORK, whatever it was, at this late point? What if the battle was lost tonight, too? 

He couldn't even sit down. 

At last, at what seemed like four in the morning but which was actually only eleven at night, he felt something odd brush at the back of his mind. A whispering, feather-light touch that felt somehow... 

...like his name. 

What a moron he was. Telepathist. How ELSE would Ernest make contact? 

Ernest?> he thought deliberately, trying to make himself as accessible as possible. 

::Garu?:: came the whisper-brush again. ::Good, you heard…:: 

First relief flooded through him, but close behind came urgency. Ernest, quickly! Tell me what your solution is so I can do something about it! It's only a half-hour before I get marked for low-grade insomnia--> 

::This won't take half an hour,:: he felt Ernest respond, the sensation a bit faded from a moment ago. Ernest's unique brand of telepathy was actually more a mix of empathic projection techniques than actual words; the contact was a shivery sensation, like the feeling of someone breathing against wet flesh, and the vibrations sparked images that Gareas could never quite grasp before melting away, leaving the impression of a specific word. It was quite an Ernest thing to do: he'd taken his strengths and use them to overcome his weaknesses. ::But please calm down, Garu -- telepathic contact is hard for me, and I won't be able to maintain it if you get worked up.:: 

And wouldn't that just be the perfect ending to the perfect day? Gareas took a moment to regulate his breathing and force his muscles to release their tension. "So, tell me, then. What are we doing? How can I possibly be asleep in no more than thirty minutes?" 

There was a long moment of hesitation, and for a panicked minute Garu feared that Ernest had forgotten what it was that he wanted to suggest in the intervening week. 

::No, that's not it,:: he was reassured immediately as Ernest read the suspicion in his thoughts. ::It's just... you have to ask me first, Garu.:: 

What? But I just did--> 

::It wasn't the right question. You have to ASK me, Garu.:: 

It was so totally unlike Ernest that Gareas realized what was going on almost immediately. Without his full awareness, they were about to dance on the edges of permissible behavior, on the verge of violating some important rule. Ernest wasn't the kind of person who charged to the aid of his friends without consideration for authority, but he most certainly was NOT the kind of person who played with his friends' emotions while they were in trouble. 

"Ernest," he said out loud, clueing in. "Do you know of a way to help with my insomnia?" 

A wispy, pleased flutter of thought reached him. ::Yes, Garu.:: 

Will you tell me what it is?> 

::Yes, Garu. Of course I'll tell you, since you've asked.:: Then there was a warmer tone to the mental "voice", as of amusement, when that was followed up with, ::You great moron. My EX. My EX!:: 

Taken totally aback, Garu forced himself to sit down on the bed. "Your EX...?" he muttered to the room at large. 

::There's a mental "trick" that I've developed,:: came the immediate reply. ::I can use my empathy to soothe your mind into sleep patterns. It counts as mental manipulation, so I'd be expelled if I use it without certain conditions... I can't mention it unless directly asked, and I can't use it unless directly asked, and even then only with permission from an administrator.:: 

Anger was smothered before it even had the chance to rise from the ashes of Gareas' earlier surprise. A telepathist's EX was incredibly dangerous under many circumstances, because without even realizing it he might be able to reach out and affect the decisions and feelings of the people around him; as a result, he must be intensely trained, monitored, and regulated. If caught doing something subconsciously, the punishment was twenty points deducted and a drop of ten full ranks. Getting caught doing something purposefully could result in immediate expulsion. 

Ernest followed his thought process silently, then inserted, ::You can see, I think, why I couldn't push the issue. I promised myself that if you didn't ask for my knowledge by your last available day, I would say something anyway, but--:: 

"You RETARD! You could've been EXPELLED!" Garu shouted. He threw himself back on the bed, disgusted with Ernest and the rules and himself for being so obtuse. "You've got nothing BUT the Academy; you were going to put your ENTIRE WAY OF LIFE at risk because I'M IMPATIENT. You know, Ernest, even if I DO get passed up for this promotion, another Pilot WILL wear out of get knocked off sooner or later and I'll be right back in the game! I'm at no real risk here! YOU, on the other hand--" 

::Garu:: ::I can't:: 

Then the contact was gone, and Garu smacked himself in the forehead. He kept forgetting Ernest's trouble with consistent telepathy. 

He resolved to wait patiently until Ernest gathered up the willpower to try the contact again, using every ounce of strength he had not to keep glancing at the clock and panicking. He contented himself with changing into his sleepclothes and climbing into bed, so he could maybe fool himself that progress was being made. In his head, he practiced what he was going to say to Ernest to talk him out of helping. 

Lying to him won't work, not while he's inside my head, so no sudden development of narcolepsy. I could tell him I don't want his help, or that I don't want anyone fucking around inside my brain... if I wanted to deal with him getting all timid and self-loathing for the next few weeks, bleeding-heart sentimentalist that he is. Aha! I could remind him that if he's kicked out, his brother will be all alone!> 

::Garu?:: 

"I'm here," he said aloud, and opened his mind again. This time there was a distinct sensation of Ernest settling into the space he left open; a strange and foreign entity that at the same time fit in like a missing piece. 

::As I was going to say before you threw your tantrum,:: whispered slyly across his consciousness, the images that the words came from not as colorful, but still sharply-defined and confident. ::I already HAVE the approval of an administrator.:: 

Garu blinked. "You... What... Who...?" 

::Dr. Rill, of course,:: was the somewhat smug answer. ::Wasn't she the one who told you to come looking for me today?:: 

He'd totally forgotten about that. It had been a comment she'd said in frustration -– 'Get out of here! I don't know what to do about your situation, you wretched little punk! Why don't you go talk to Ernest, who has the patience of a saint to put up with you?' -– and he honestly hadn't thought about it twice. 

::I approached her about it last week, right after you decided that daily sex would solve your problems.:: Still, the light-hearted teasing. ::She knows I can do it, and well, because I do it for Erts all the time...:: 

"Why didn't SHE say anything about this?" Gareas wanted to know. He scowled at the ceiling. "Why didn't ANYBODY in Med Bay?" 

A pause, and then, ::Because unless a telepathist Candidate is working in Med Bay for some spare credits -– and that's very unlikely, considering the nature of the work there -– there has to be a volunteer before they can offer the service. And they... they didn't think I'd volunteer. They didn't think you were such... a close friend of mine.:: 

Garu refused to react to that comment, but promised himself that the drug-happy nurses would be sorry for whatever their total absence of tact had induced them to say to get Ernest so embarrassed. 

::Leave them alone, Garu.:: A fleeting, delicate touch swept over the surface of his mind, like a caress. ::Saa. Shall I help you, then?:: 

The mattress was stiff and uncomfortable and made him feel like he was sleeping on an ironing board; the pillow was not nearly full enough and it was giving him a crick in his neck; he was nowhere near tired. If Ernest could make him sleep in this condition... 

::Stop worrying, Garu, and ask me already.:: 

It was strange. With that one statement, thousands of images and ideas and colors flared to life behind his eyelids, appearing and vanishing again much faster than he could follow. Garu almost didn't understand the simple sentence that was molded from the deluge of connections; how could they possibly mean something so innocent when they felt like so much? 

But Garu had long ago given up on understanding all the different levels that comprised Ernest. "You know," he said to the air, "I'm..." But he couldn't say it. "I want you to know that I'm..." He struggled with himself for a long moment, then gave up. 

Why do these words have to be so hard for me to say?> he groused internally. Ernest. I want you to know that I'm sorry.> 

::You're sorry?:: The image-words were colored with amusement. ::Oh, Garu, you have nothing to be sorry for.:: 

He insisted, No, I do.> Apologies might stick in his throat, but they poured out in his thoughts without reservations. For being such a jerk, and for not listening when you talked, and for walking all over you, and for burdening you with my problems and expecting you to help me but not LETTING you help me and now at the last minute...> 

::Oh, Garu.:: It might only have been an echo. Ernest's presence seemed to glow when it reached out to him again. ::This is no sacrifice, Garu. I would do anything for you, you know that. Even if you are a jerk, I'll always be here with you.:: 

Gareas closed his eyes and sighed. Then... help me?> 

And suddenly, all at once, his consciousness shifted. It was among the most bizarre things he'd ever experienced, as if everything in the universe except Garu himself had just randomly jumped three inches to the left. When he might have opened his eyes in alarm, there was another shift, this one gentler; it made him think of a concerned mother checking her child's temperature and smoothing back his hair in one loving motion. It was very peaceful... 

Then another shift, and all the tension drained from his body, and just lying down felt wonderful; by the time the next one washed over him, he was asleep. 

* * *

If there are errors, problems, or inconsistencies in this part, it's because I wasn't interested enough to give it one last read before sending it out. ^^ My beta-readers were being kinda sloppy, I think... 

Nobody's mine... They're all Yukiru Sugisaki's... For now... >D 

--Kay Willow   
AIM: Savinsilk   
Email: kay_willow@hotmail.com   
Quote: can't be bothered 


	6. Part 3: Counterpoint

ABSENTMINDED AUTHOR NOTES:   
This is the last part of the fic proper. The epilogue, which is next, is a bit different... 

WARNINGS:   
This segment contains lots of shounen ai, takes place mostly in the normal universe, is a combination of fact and Fabrication on many things, and is basically just like every other part in these respects. ^^ As opposed to those, however, this is relatively short. Don't worry. It'll be made up for in the epilogue. 

* * *

SEDIMENTARY PERCUSSION   
CHAPTER 3: Counterpoint   
by Kay Willow 

The ceremony was brief by necessity; while we were in one of the rare lulls of the Victim flow, Gareas had already wasted more than enough time in finding a way to overcome his insomnia, and the administration wasn't about to delay any longer. So it was that the Candidates lined up in formal tunic and slacks, their Repairers opposite them in formal bodysuit and jacket, before lunch that same day, and waited for their former compatriots to appear. 

Tune, opposite me, seemed to be torn between pride and worry. The pride was no doubt for Leena, but the worry was because of Garu... because Garu leaving means that I am deprived of my dearest friend. There are days when I am struck by her selflessness, and still more when I wonder if I'm really worthy of such a loyal and admiring Repairer when I spent so much time on my own petty concerns and could not appreciate her anyway. I ignored her more often than not, and she still remained unswervingly devoted. 

A crack of heels on the ground as the Senior Candidates saluted in respect, and Garu was there in full regalia, quickly striding down the aisle without hesitation; Leena matched his pace as best she could on his left, nearer to the other Repairers. They stopped short when they reached our place in the line-up, and I dutifully stepped forward when Garu turned to face me, and saluted him properly. With a twisted grin, Garu saluted me back. 

There wouldn't be any problems with this separation. Distance generally makes little difference to a telepathist. Even though we will be separated by countless light years once he departs with the GIS, I will still have my empathy, and through my connection to Gareas I will always know if he needs me. Insomnia will never be a problem for him again, not so long as I live. 

Garu surprised me then by reaching out and embracing me; he clutched me close to him and just held me there for a long second. I think I may have melted in sheer joy, but eventually I managed to bring my arms up and hug him in return. Across from us, Leena had reigned in Tune for a similar display of affection, only involving a quiet and meaningful discussion instead of the manly I-refuse-to-get-sentimental-and-no-I'm-not-going-to-cry silence that Garu and I attempted. I failed at it miserably, I might note -- there were definite tears in my eyes. 

It wasn't farewell, no. But it was certainly a goodbye. It would be a year before I could see him next. He would be a different man, a different person... He would have grown up beyond his years, away from me and the other friends he left behind, because that's the way it always is with the Pilots; they risk their lives every day to protect the human race and the only planet left to us, but they become distanced from those very things because the only ones who can understand the true meaning of this battle is others of their own kind. Soon enough the Pilots and the GIS crew will be Garu's only family, his Ingrid his only love, and remnants like me will be left behind. 

That was what I believed. Although even once Gareas was gone -- never a word said to me, for none were needed -- I could do nothing but sit and stare out the windows into the endless ocean of stars and think of him, and I knew somehow that it wasn't true. 

Tune stayed with me. She didn't say much, simply lending her presence, and I was grateful to her for that. 

When it was time for my training, Tune finally spoke. "I understand that you'll miss him terribly," she said shyly, fussing with her sleeves. She seemed to think they were too tight; I've noticed her fussing with them a lot. "It's horrible, watching your friends go off like that." Her tone was sad; she was going to miss Leena a lot, as well. 

I smiled wistfully at the stars. "We'll probably never see them again," I observed. "They'll be here for maybe a week once a year. They'll move on. We'll move on..." 

I will never move on.> It was a fact. As a telepathist, I knew my own heart. Sometimes you fell so hard and so fast and so completely that there was no 'moving on'. 

"Why should we?" she asked, uncertain whether I wanted to hear her words. I turned and nodded at her encouragingly, and she rushed on. "I mean... I know that it's never been your dream to become a Pilot, that you're doing this more out of a sense of obligation than anything else, but... Just because it's not your lifelong goal doesn't mean you can't work towards it! If nothing else, becoming a Pilot would mean that you could..." Tune faltered, then flushed. "...That you could see Gareas-san and Leena-san again." 

I stared at her. Isn't it funny, how sometimes the simplest answers could slip right through your fingers? 

The very concept of me making it to Pilot was so bizarre that I couldn't even imagine it -- but it might not be so far off after all. I was an excellent Candidate, having been told several times that application would land me easily within the top ten, but I had never bothered to put an effort into my practices. Why bother? I didn't want to be a Pilot. Let someone with the will and the dream take the place that could be mine... 

...but maybe it would be worth it. The only way to be near Garu was to become a Pilot, and being near him was all I'd ever needed to be happy. If that wasn't enough incentive... 

"Then let's work at it," I said, getting to my feet, feeling positively cheerful again. "Let's try our best." 

Tune tilted her head to smile shyly at me. "You can make it," she whispered. "As long as it's important to you." 

It's the only thing important enough. 

* * *

Does it suck? I bet it sucks. ^^ I don't think I like this part... 

The suckiness is all mine, but the characters and the setting belong to Bunny-sensei. ^^ Although maybe killing off Ernest is reason enough to take them away from her... 

--Kay Willow, wishing she had a reason to procrastinate on her Psych final paper, but unable to find one because of her writer's block on the MK/GW crossover   
AIM: Savinsilk   
Email: kay_willow@hotmail.com   
Quote: can't be bothered~ 


	7. Epilogue: Point

ABSENTMINDED AUTHOR NOTES:   
Okay! Finally got the last part worked out! Boy, the finale took a ridiculous amount of time to write out, considering that the Epilogue: Finale is only about two pages long... 

Love them. Come on, you know you want to. 

Assuming anybody's reading this. ^^ 

WARNINGS:   
Shounen ai hinting. Most likely, an alternate universe with normal-universe timeline. Lots of improvisation to make up for what I don't know. Possibly somewhat OOC. ^_^ But in a GOOD way. 

* * *

SEDIMENTARY PERCUSSION   
EPILOGUE: Point   
by Kay Willow   


Zero Enna stared at the ceiling and thought about all the things he'd done that day and wished he'd done and wanted to do tomorrow. He thought about his past and his future, and he thought about his friends and his rivals, but most of all he thought about the friend and the rival in the beds to his right, and how nice it would be to take a pillow and put it over Clay's face and just PRESS until he stopped snoring. 

He wasn't too bad about it when compared to OTHERS, and Zero was willing to admit that -- after all, on the shuttle to GOA they'd slept in the same chamber with Instructor Azuma, who snored like a rabid animal with a chainsaw. And Zero wasn't the embodiment of peaceful rest himself; he had a tendency to snore when he spread out, and he knew that, and he wasn't trying to be a hypocrite and say that he was the only one who was allowed to snore. 

But tonight it was getting on his nerves. 

Zero was making a deliberate effort to be considerate, because Clay had not fared well during Pro-Ing practice that day. So he tried to lay still and go to sleep -- Clay was a light sleeper to boot, and even the slightest movement could wake him -- but it wasn't long before his energetic soul protested THAT. He wanted to fidget! Do sit-ups! Pace or jog track or SOMETHING! 

Pro-Ing practice had been dreadfully boring, at least as far as Zero was concerned. In their match-up with the Top Candidates, Roose and Clay had lost so badly that they'd all but had no effect whatsoever on their respective matches, and Hiead had gone berserk and put Yamagi -- poor sap -- in traction. Zero was the only one who'd done even remotely well, and considering the damage to his Pro-Ing (TOTALLY not his fault) that was saying something. 

But as a result, this time around they'd been paired with a much lower-ranking group. Not that it matters, it's not like Erts is there anymore anyway...> Zero couldn't remember the name of the Candidate he'd been paired with, although he thought that the boy's number might've been #81. Whoever he was, he had been so snivelingly obnoxious about his two months seniority in GOA that Zero had eventually left off Roose and his partner to turn on his own so-called "partner" instead. He'd gotten in a good deal of trouble, of course, but he didn't regret it for a moment. 

With any luck, #81 would register a complaint, and he'd get a new pair! 

One who isn't all superior about how much longer he's been here,> Zero thought viciously. Somebody who isn't going to order me around like he thinks he's an Instructor, who'll know when to give advice -- ADVICE and not ORDERS -- and know when to just HELP, and who'll realize that I need to ACT sometimes and be SUPPORTIVE of that instead of critical...> 

Zero flipped over onto his stomach before even realizing what he was doing, then paused to see if he'd woken Clay. The other boy muttered something to himself, made a vague motion as if to push up a pair of glasses that weren't there, and drifted right back to sleep. 

Zero continued to watch him, train of thought shifting slightly. Clay would definitely suck as a pair. I feel sorry for whoever has to team up with him. Little coward would be long gone by the time you could bring up the request to engage the enemy.> He buried his grin in his pillow. An ally? Yes. Guarding my back in battle? No way. He'd hide somewhere and narrate while I got torn to pieces.> 

Roose could only barely fire his beam rifle; he wouldn't make much of a pair either. Yamagi would be great, except for the fact that they were too much alike -- and then who would keep them from acting stupid? 

And I'd sooner quit GOA before trusting HIEAD to look after me in battle. I wouldn't survive past the first time I turned away from him.> 

Then there was no one left. Although he'd met and befriended a few other Candidates, training and tests took up too much of his time to have gotten to know them as well as he knew his own group. Considering one of them as his pair would be nearly as absurd as choosing a totally random person he picked out of the cafeteria one day. 

Of course, pairs WERE randomly chosen by the admin. But a boy could always dream about finding his perfect pair, right...? 

Erts. 

Well, of course,> Zero reasoned with himself, running a hand though his hair. Erts is THE perfect pair. He's smart and capable and calm -- a little too calm, sometimes; can't be healthy -- and because he's a telepathist he understands what his pair needs.> 

Though that wasn't to say that Erts would be perfect with just anyone. If Roose were to be paired with him, for example, their mild and passive personalities would make the combination unremarkable, if functional. Put Erts with CLAY and he'd probably be dead in a week; Erts might be afraid of battle, but he wouldn't run either, and he'd feel responsible for covering Clay's back when he ran to save his own skin. 

But Zero was momentarily stumped on Yamagi. They might be a good pair... Erts as Yamagi's support, tempering his recklessness and crying him off when there was too much at stake... Yamagi wouldn't be afraid of Erts any more than Zero himself was, and he'd know enough to LISTEN when he talked... 

They'd make an okay pair on the battlefield,> he admitted reluctantly. But they wouldn't work under normal settings! Yamagi... that kid's too gullible, he'd believe Erts when he said that he's fine or that he's happy or that he doesn't want people to touch him. And then Erts will NEVER be normal. So, that wouldn't work either.> 

And just THINKING about Erts getting paired with Hiead was horrific enough to push him past mere outrage and all the way into the realm of the physically ill. 

Okay. So Erts would work best with me. Good.> 

Zero absently massaged his right hand. Sometimes he still thought he could feel the strange warmth of the younger boy's life, a complex and beautiful thing that reassured him that, wherever he was in the wide galaxy, he was safe. 

But in those moments... it was almost as if he could just reach out and touch... 

~Zero?~> 

He jerked his hand back from where he'd wistfully stretched it out, and then blinked. Erts?> 

The words came into his mind as though they were his own thoughts, but they were "flavored" differently; lighter and heavier at the same time, with an almost earthy feel to them that was comforting, reminiscent of a homeworld Zero had never known but had experienced in the simulated environment of the relaxation room. It was, without a doubt, Erts. 

Strangely, the boy answered, ~Yes. Most of the time.~> Zero could almost see him smiling that small, sad smile of his. ~Why aren't you asleep, Zero? It's late.~> 

He shrugged, momentarily forgetting that Erts wasn't there and couldn't see the gesture. I'm not tired, I didn't do enough today. And our new matches for Pro-Ing practice are nothing less than terrible.> After a moment's consideration, he deliberately recalled the memory, playing through the event in his mind so Erts could see what he meant. 

The other boy said nothing, watching the parade of images with a solemnity they didn't really merit, but by the time Yamagi needed to restrain him from assaulting #81, Zero could sense his demeanor gradually loosening. When he reached the point where Zero finally lost his patience entirely and attacked the annoying twit, Erts actually laughed. 

It was a free, healthy sound. Zero had never heard him laugh like that before. 

Then again, he'd only heard Erts laugh once before. 

~I won't tell you he didn't deserve it,~> the younger boy told him when he'd calmed down. ~But Zero, you really ought to...~> Then he trailed off in surprise. 

Zero smirked to himself. You noticed, huh?> 

~I didn't know you knew about the Pro-Ing's energy packs.~> 

Zero was rather proud of himself for that one. Actually switching sides and attacking his practice pair would cost him his rank, and he'd worked too hard and gotten too far to let a little agitation ruin his chances of becoming a Pilot. So he'd decided on the humiliation tactic instead; first faking right, then darting to the left, getting behind the other Pro-Ing before its startled controller could fully grasp the situation, and yanked out its energy pack, effectively rendering the mechanical weapon into a useless slab of metal, totally unresponsive to the boy trapped inside it. 

Of course, the power packs weren't common knowledge. It was something he'd picked up from Erts himself. 

Zero grinned as he answered, I had to do something to deflate the little jackass, and if I went and beat the crap out of my own pair's Pro-Ing, Azuma would freeze my rank for the next three years.> 

A brief vibration stimulated his entire brain all at once; he had the sudden amused mental image of Erts humming telepathically. ~And then what happened?~> 

I was out for the rest of the day, of course, although I was lucky 'cuz I didn't get any other penalties.> Zero pushed himself onto his side and leaned on one elbow, this time ignoring Clay when he tossed restlessly. But my day was boring. It's nothing new to either of us. How was YOUR day?> 

~Mine...?~> 

Yes, yours.> Zero focused pointedly on his memories of Erts' moving-up ceremony and felt the younger boy's startled discomfort. This connection was so simple to understand, and it worked both ways; how could anyone be afraid of this, think that a telepathist could use it to hurt others? It'd be easier for the other person to turn the contact back and hurt the telepathist than vice versa. You're a Pilot now, remember? What's a Pilot's day like?> 

Erts gave him a brief impression of weariness. ~Busy. Not much different from a Candidate's, except for the Victim attacks. We spent most of today doing group exercises and rhythm practice. I think they're still getting used to me being here instead of Aniki.~> 

There was something more behind those words, but Zero could tell that it wasn't something Erts wanted to discuss. For all that Erts came off as a very passive and compliant person, he had a will of steel. Few people could force him to do something he had decided not to do. Zero didn't want to be one of those people. It was a horrible power to have over somebody so gentle, and it was a far worse thing to actually use it. 

So he tactfully change the subject. How about your new Repairer? What's she like?> 

~I'm honestly not sure.~> A thin thread of amusement leaked through his mental voice. ~Tune-san is more shy than anyone I've ever known; she's very hesitant to speak to me. As a matter of fact, I rarely see her speak to anyone besides the other Repairers outside an emergency situation.~> 

Again, he was leaving out something important that needed to be said, and for just a moment Zero began to reconsider not delving deeper -- what if he was repressing something, trying to be stronger than he really was instead of asking his friend for help and possibly being a burden? But before he could think about it, Erts inquired in a rush, ~If you don't mind my asking-- If it isn't too personal...~> 

Hey, Senpai, didn't I already tell you I've got nothing to hide from you?> Zero demanded instantly. Really, what part of the word "friend" was Erts misunderstanding? Maybe "friend" entailed something different in their respective native languages. You can ask me whatever you like. I might not ANSWER, but I probably will, and I promise not to hate you no matter WHAT you ask.> 

He was rewarded with the fleeting impression of one of Erts' rare genuine smiles, but it only lasted a moment. ~Then... who is Rei?~> 

That had been probably the last thing Zero had expected. He stiffened unconsciously and found himself wondering how Erts had picked up the name. 

~It's something that drifts under the surface of your thoughts every now and then,~> Erts commented, sounding regretful already. ~A half-formed connection, something like, "Rei would've thought" or "Rei would've done"... I'm sorry. It's none of my business.~> 

You stop that right now,> Zero told him, scrambling to recover from his surprise. Friends are allowed to ask personal questions. Besides, it's nothing embarrassing; I just didn't think you'd know about that. See, I'M Rei.> 

Silence, and then, ~You...?~> 

It's the name my father gave me; I don't remember him, but that's what Kaasan always told me.> Zero finally rested fully back against the mattress and stared at the ceiling. But, see, our colony was trying to switch us from a variant on old Japanese to Interplanetary Standard... So since "Rei" in old Japanese means "Zero" in Interplanetary Standard...> 

~I know that, actually,~> Erts responded slowly. ~I know pieces of old Japanese... We still use the family names, and all the suffixes...~> He grounded himself after a moment, and continued, ~I never made the connection. How strange. So they started calling you Zero instead of Rei...~> 

I guess I consider Rei to be a different person,> Zero mused, closing his eyes and thinking back to that time. He was kind of whiny, and he thought about things a lot more... He was really codependent on things, and I don't think I'm like that at all. I complain but I don't whine; I think about things but usually do things as they come to me; and I don't think I lean on anybody like that anymore.> 

~But... the name still means a lot to you, doesn't it...?~> 

Zero smiled crookedly. It's something that's mine. I don't have a lot of things that belong to me these days; most of my stuff is GOA standard-issue. So the name is important.> 

~I think... I think I understand.~> 

Erts' presence was a fragile and delicate thing, a firefly dancing against the blackness of the night sky, but it was supportive and sympathetic and somehow comforting to Zero's restless mind. No one had ever grounded his whimsical nature so effectively before, or made him feel so appreciated; it was something that they alone shared. 

Zero smiled as he thought back, I think you do, too.> 

Then there was a comfortable silence, and Zero gradually recognized Hiead's quiet breathing and Clay's not-so-quiet snoring all over again. He was dimly aware that his performance tomorrow would suck unless he got some sleep, but it didn't seem very important while Erts was there... 

~I'm rather tired, too, while you're on the topic,~> Erts told him, again with that smiling sensation in the contact. 

Well, don't let me keep you up, Pilot-san!> Zero thought brightly. You need your rest to save all the rest of us from Victim!> 

~I'm not going to abandon you to a sleepless night, either,~> was his response, colored with gentle amusement. ~I can help you sleep, if you'll let me. It's a trick I learned from my brother, a telepathy thing...~> 

I thought telepathists weren't ALLOWED...> 

~So you read the Student Handbook after all,~> Erts observed teasingly. 

Sure, once I learned HOW to read in Standard,> Zero griped. It's really inconsiderate not to make it multilingual, you know, and reading Standard is so HARD. Each combination stands for something totally different! Kanji make things much simpler.> 

Erts allowed another smile to slip past his guard. ~Well. A different set of rules apply to the Pilots. As long as I'm acting in the best interests of GOA, I'm given complete discretion.~> 

Zero shook his head, taking a moment to marvel at the freedom the Pilots possessed. Okay then. Go right ahead. I think it's in GOA's best interests to have all their Candidates well-rested and in top form, don't you?> 

A tendril of thought brushed against a sensitive area of his mind, almost like a caress, and Zero shivered as it whispered to him, ~Especially because it's you. Because you're going to be a Pilot someday soon... isn't that right...?~> 

Definitely. I promised you.> As abruptly as that, he felt his consciousness simply melt away. Before it weakened him, he managed to send, Oyasumi nasai...> 

Oyasumi nasai... Rei...> 

He was already so far gone that he couldn't be sure if that soft addition was Erts, or a memory, or simply his own overactive imagination, but he thought fuzzily, I'll keep my promise... not gonna let you be alone... I'll protect you... Erts...> 

* * *

Can you hear some of my bitterness about kanji leaking out in there? Yeah, I bet you can... 

In spite of how much I despise kanji, I've finished translating Myth14 entirely, and I'm halfway through Myth15, and even Hiead thinks that there's something between Zero and Erts. >D Erin-neesama criticized me for searching out yaoi Moments because they were written into the very storyline, and I guess she was right. 

By the way. Said storyline, as well as Zero and Erts and all my other beloved MK characters, belong to Bunny-sensei. And not me. *withering sigh* 

--Kay, going to post the next part...   
AIM: Savinsilk   
Email: kay_willow@hotmail.com   
Quote: Erin-neesama, in regard to why our resident telepathists react   
so well to our resident troublemakers -- 

"It's a rare thing for a telepath to be in the company of   
someone who genuinely expects them to be only themselves.   
Almost everyone has certain expectations of everyone else,   
certain things they assume and things they hope will be   
true. Zero doesn't. Granted, this is because Zero never   
stops spreading his own special brand of mayhem long enough   
to think of any preconceived notions, but still..." 


	8. Epilogue: Counterpoint

ABSENTMINDED AUTHOR NOTES:   
No, you're NOT hallucinating; Zero's thoughts -- while to him he was only thinking normally -- register with ERTS as telepathic sending. Zero's got all manner of Mysterious Powers (TM), so I figured why not give him one that makes life easier on Erts? 

WARNINGS:   
Confirmed shounen ai. Bizarre mix of anime/manga/my universes. Lots of improvisation to make up for what I don't know. Probably somewhat OOC. Contains MASSIVE amounts of cuteness in the form of Zero's subconscious. >D It's like an adoring puppydog~! Also, a mild depression warning towards the end. 

* * *

SEDIMENTARY PERCUSSION   
EPILOGUE: Counterpoint   
by Kay Willow   


I couldn't make myself feel at ease among the other Pilots. Even aside from my near-phobia of battle, a suspicion lingered in the back of my mind... The suspicion that in spite of their kindness and friendliness, I personally meant nothing to them. No, my subconscious mind whispered to me, it was my similarities to Aniki that they sought me out for. 

Rioroute-san was pleasant enough, exuberant and cheerful and almost reminiscent of Zero except that his seeming openness only hid a more thoughtful, less secure layer of his personality. It gave him a mental impression of duplicity and deceit that I couldn't look past. His attempts to include me in their group were afterthoughts at best... and at worst, seemed to be nothing more than a desperate effort to avoid losing an argument, or to get support. I found myself instinctively recoiling from his demands for help, and I feel guilty that I can't help him. 

Yu-san didn't project at all. His mind was carefully shielded and restrained, and I am grateful for that. He, at least, does not constantly barrage my empathy with his emotions and thoughts; such people, with naturally self-contained mental energy, are very rare. However, with his control keeping me from knowing those emotions and thoughts, I could only guess his opinion of me. It was hard to look him in the eyes some days. I can't help believing that I've disappointed him somehow by not being Aniki. 

Worst of all was Gareas-san. He, who had the most reason to view me as Aniki's replacement, was the one who worked the hardest to accept me as myself, urging the others to do the same and approve me as their new fifth. But rather than put me at ease, his unwavering faith in me only underscored his heartfelt grief at the death of my brother, which had not lessened noticeably since my arrival at GIS. 

Those people... they were not my partners. They were Aniki's. It showed in the way they acted to me, the way they spoke to me, and the very way they think. 

Teela-san was the only one I didn't feel stifled by. I got no signals from her at all; only a distinct sense of good health and firm resolve. She expected nothing of me but what she would expect of any telepathist. She wanted me to keep NOAH Z-M-R-K in good condition -- no leaving Agui Keimeia's shield range, no engaging the enemy, no throwing myself suicidally at the enemy in order to protect someone else... She wanted me to keep the team in good condition -- monitoring the enemy's intentions, monitoring my teammate's intentions, making sure everyone remains stable and not putting one person above all others no matter how much I wish to... 

But her expectations were not shared by the others. Rioroute-san wanted me to be his close friend Ernest, who knew how to make him feel better. Yu-san wanted me to be Ernest, the one person who had tried to get him involved without forcing him. Gareas-san... wanted Ernest to be here instead of me. 

I want Aniki to be back, too. I hate fighting. 

So, at night, I got into the habit of reaching out my consciousness to GOA, looking over the people I knew there. The people who, more importantly, knew ME. There weren't many that I wanted to check up on -- Rome and the new Candidate she was assigned to; Aracd (who was the kindest to me, of all the Top) and an Instructor or two that I was fond of... And... 

Zero was still awake, that night. So I called out to him, testing to see if this strange connection of ours would work over distance... 

It was always there, from the first moment that I felt his passion and enthusiasm crashing against my mind. I know him somehow, better than I know any other save myself, even if the knowledge is buried deep and my own consideration won't allow me to tap it. The bond between us showed me that he is healthy and not unhappy, which was almost enough to make me feel better. 

But I'm not that strong. 

He was thinking of me when I first touched his mind, and his startlement faded into pleasure as he realized that I was there. I couldn't sense his earlier train of thought, which had been disrupted by my query, but his new thread subconsciously circled around in a happy chant of *itISerts!itISerts!itISerts!* 

The subconscious mind is a delightful thing. ~Yes,~> I sent to him, feeling wistful. ~Most of the time.~> But only because there were a few people left who wouldn't prefer me to be Aniki. ~Why aren't you asleep, Zero? It's late.~> 

~I'm not tired, I didn't do enough today,~> he returned with startling strength. Most non-telepathists send their thoughts very weakly, but Zero's came through with unexpected clarity, almost as if his own EX were boosting it. ~And our new matches for Pro-Ing practice are nothing less than terrible.~> 

Then he projected, again with stunning power behind the sending, and allowed me to see the practice. Every now and then his subconscious mind would interject *wasn'theajerk?hewasajerk* -- and I would soothe on a similarly subconscious level, ~yeshereallywas~ -- or *thatyamagiheneverletsmehaveanyfun* -- at which point I tried to remind it, ~wellyouwouldgetintrouble~ -- or *watchwhatidohereithinkthiswasprettycool*. And I had to agree, laughing helplessly as Zero took complete control of his Pro-Ing to wind his way around behind his confused partner and disrupt the unit's power flow, with his mind cheering, *gethim!gethim!* 

Contact with Zero was very different than any other contact I've had. He didn't hide anything from me, which would've resulted in an unpleasant shaded sensation to what passed between us; there was a layer to him that I couldn't read, but he never acted unnaturally and always let his thoughts flow. With Zero it was all beautifully simple. 

Zero was commenting on his coup-de-grace, ~I had to do something to deflate the little jackass, and if I went and beat the crap out of my own pair's Pro-Ing, Azuma would freeze my rank for the next three years.~> 

Resolving to focus more on what Zero was saying, I narrowed my field of attention down onto his situation -- receiving in return the bizarre subconscious comment *telepathichumming!that'scute!* which may or may not have meant that he could FEEL my concentration, something which has never been heard of before. ~And then what happened?~> 

He brushed it aside, asking instead, ~How was YOUR day?~> 

That caught me by surprise. Somehow I couldn't imagine anyone being interested in my life. No one but Aniki ever had been before. ~Mine...?~> 

~Yes, yours. You're a Pilot now, remember?~> And he prompted me with his memories of the day I was promoted; I saw myself walk up the honor aisle, looking pale and small and withdrawn, and from Zero I could only get a vague sensation of determination. There was no telltale subconscious commentary this time to let me know his thoughts. I was glad. ~How was a day in the life of a Pilot?~> 

~Busy,~> I told him truthfully, and let him see my weariness briefly. But only the weariness, and only briefly; he was kind to concern himself with my well-being, and I couldn't repay that by forcing him to suffer my trials along with me. So I told him the barest truth, avoiding the doubled feel of telepathic lying by not saying anything specific enough to need to be lied about: ~Not much different from a Candidate's, except for the Victim attacks. We spent most of today doing group exercises and rhythm practice. I think they're still getting used to me being here instead of Aniki.~> 

Rhythm practice was always difficult among people you weren't in sync with. It was even harder when they were expecting you to fit into someone else's rhythm. 

And they're not wrong in expecting that. Aniki should've been the one to be here. 

For a long moment, I thought Zero had somehow picked up on that part and was going to demand an explanation, but he let it slide, proceeding on to the next topic. ~How about your new Repairer? What's she like?~> 

~I'm honestly not sure. Tune-san is more shy than anyone I've ever known; she's very hesitant to speak to me.~> More than that; she appeared actively afraid to do so, as though interacting with her new partner would make her old partner more dead. ~As a matter of fact, I rarely see her speak to anyone besides the other Repairers outside an emergency situation.~> She spent all her time with the other Repairers; chatting with Leena-san or listening to Phil-san or giggling over something with Kazuhi-san. I reminded her too much of Aniki for her to be comfortable with me. 

Again, Zero appeared to hear my private thought, and this time I caught a distinct subconscious drift of *don'taskhimlethimhavesomeprivacyjusttrusthimREIwouldn'thaveaskedhim*. 

I've heard him do that before, refer without even noticing to some person called Rei. Each time, my heart contracted almost painfully. Not even a telepathist is immune to jealousy and longing, and empathy is not my specialty; I am as vulnerable to my emotions as any man -- if not more so. 

I endeavored to quell the feeling as I always do, but for some reason found that this time I didn't have the strength. I was sick and tired of fighting it. I blurted, ~If you don't mind my asking-- If it isn't too personal...~> 

Before I could actually ask, however, Zero inserted, ~Hey, Senpai, didn't I already tell you I've got nothing to hide from you? You can ask me whatever you like. I might not ANSWER, but I probably will, and I promise not to hate you no matter WHAT you ask.~> 

There was slight irritation in his tone, but not at me -- more at himself, for not conveying to me his trust. His mind echoed emphatically *iwouldn'tgetangrynotatYOUyoucanaskanything*. 

Zero could never know how amazing a person he was. I smiled against my will, feeling how naturally he accepted and trusted me. Then his subconscious mind responded to my happiness and buzzed enthusiastically *whatquestion?* and I remembered the delicate area I was about to enter, and my pleasure faded. ~Then... who is Rei?~> 

His whole mind shuttered closed against me all at once; a brief spasm of his consciousness that chased me away from him, and I knew immediately that I had been right to keep it to myself. But before I could withdraw completely and nurse my foolishness in private, the shields relaxed again, and his curiosity, untainted by anger or unhappiness, pulled me back again, helpless as a moth to a flame. I needed that reassurance. 

~It's something that drifts under the surface of your thoughts every now and then... A half-formed connection, something like, "Rei would've thought" or "Rei would've done"... I'm sorry. It's none of my business.~> Babbled like a fool. It seems when I look back that I was TRYING to drive him away. 

But Zero made his own choices, and no amount of bumbling on my part was going to sway him. ~You stop that right now. Friends are allowed to ask personal questions. Besides, it's nothing embarrassing. I just didn't think you'd know about that. See, I'M Rei.~> 

Not a lover. Not an important friend. Not abandoned family. Just... ~You...?~> 

~It's the name my father gave me,~> Zero continued, sounding almost pleased at my astonishment. ~I don't remember him, but that's what Kaasan always told me. But, see, our colony was trying to switch us from a variant on old Japanese to Interplanetary Standard... So since "Rei" in old Japanese is "Zero" in Interplanetary Standard...~> 

With a sudden click, it all fell into place so obviously. ~I know that, actually... I know pieces of old Japanese...~> Zero's "Kaasan", Kazuhi-san's "Oniisama", my own "Aniki"... ~We still use the family terms...~> ...Gareas-san, Azuma-kyokan, Clay-kun... ~...and all the suffixes...~> 

I felt Zero's amusement, the reflexive condescension of a native speaker finding 'proof' that his language is 'superior' to others, somewhat tempered by a palpable affection. Suddenly awkward in my tangential wandering, I returned to the issue I'd brought up. ~I never made the connection. How strange. So they started calling you Zero instead of Rei...~> 

~I guess I consider Rei to be a different person...~> 

His memories washed across my consciousness in gentle and unthreatening waves, not like the rushed and wild frenzy I get from others. I saw him as a child clinging to his mother, saw him playing with his friends, saw him taking time for himself to just think. He laughed and struggled and learned and questioned, and I could've watched that child forever. 

But he had gone on while I dwelled within his past, downplaying his younger self. His psyche told me firmly *i'mnotweaklikethati'mstrongnow* 

~you'rethestrongestpersoniknow~ I reassured him subliminally. On a more intelligible level I asked hesitantly, ~But... the name still means a lot to you, doesn't it...?~> 

~It's something that's mine,~> he answered, confident, almost viciously protective. ~I don't have a lot of things that belong to me these days; most of my stuff is GOA standard-issue. So the name is important.~> 

When I came here, I was given my brother's uniform, my brother's Ingrid, and I even had my brother's Repairer. I was among my brother's friends and companions. I had my brother's job, my brother's EX, my brother's rhythm. There was no one for me; all of GIS knew me as Ernest Cuore's brother... Ernest Cuore's replacement. 

The only thing that I had -- something for ME, Erts Virny Cocteau -- was this contact. 

~I think... I think I understand.~> 

Zero was quiet for a moment, his subconscious mind similarly muted as it murmured something I couldn't quite make out about being special. We know each other better than I'd ever thought possible. He responded only, ~I think you do, too.~> 

After another long moment, Zero's mind drifted back into the consideration of sleep. It had been a long day, and I was ready to nod off myself, so I prodded him pointedly, ~I'm rather tired, too, while you're on the topic.~> 

Immediately, his attention returned to me, with a very distinct emotion that even I could recognize as fond concern, and sent with easy good cheer, ~Well, don't let me keep you up, Pilot-san! You need your rest to save the rest of us from Victim!~> 

He always teased, even when he made a sacrifice for the sake of another. ~I'm not going to abandon you to a sleepless night, either. I can help you sleep, if you'll let me. It's a trick I learned from my brother, a telepathy thing...~> 

His wariness would probably surprise his instructors and friends, who view him as a rebel and a mischief-maker, but I was expecting his dubious, ~I thought telepathists weren't ALLOWED...~> 

Trouble came naturally to Zero, and when provoked he would charge headlong into it, but he rarely deliberately broke the rules. I smiled. ~So you read the Student Handbook after all.~> Then, having started it, I listened patiently to his complaints about how difficult it was to read Standard, and interjected as soon as it was prudent, ~Well. A different set of rules apply to the Pilots. As long as I'm acting in the best interests of GOA, I'm given complete discretion.~> 

~Okay then. Go right ahead. I think it's in GOA's best interests to have all their Candidates well-rested and in top form, don't you?~> he joked. Always trying to put me at ease... 

I reached out and placed mental "hands" against his mind gently. ~Especially because it's you. Because you're going to be a Pilot someday soon...~> I couldn't help smiling, carried away by the moment. ~Isn't that right...?~> 

A surge of something I didn't recognize raced across his mind under my mental touch, then settled again as he thought, ~Definitely. I promised you.~> 

Aniki had been awkward at this; it's really more telepathy than empathy, focusing on manipulation of mental patterns with no relation to feelings, and he's never been very good with telepathy. I borrowed the technique and perfected it, making it less disconcerting, more fluid, and not as unnatural. But I've never had the chance to use it on someone before; I've never wanted to before. 

I reached out with my "hands" and smoothed them across the surface of his thoughts, evening out his brainwaves and coaxing him into relaxing. Almost immediately, drowsiness overcame him, but he struggled against it, fighting to add, ~Oyasumi nasai...~> 

*meansgoodnight* his psyche informed me automatically, in no language but that of telepathy. 

Feeling absurdly touched, and wistful, and wanting nothing more than to see him, I sent quietly, ~Oyasumi nasai...~> 

Could I? Did I dare? 

I had to. I had to know. I'm not as strong as you, Aniki; I can't be content just knowing that he's happy. I need something more than that. I need to know if I'm as important to him as he is to me. 

~...Rei...~> 

My answer was the briefest of flutters, and then a slow, unclear whim that carried across his thought: I'll keep my promise... not gonna let you be alone... I'll protect you... Erts...> 

I drew my consciousness back slowly after making sure he was asleep, torn apart by joy and hope and confusion and doubt. It was only because he hadn't been conscious of what was going on, part of me insisted; how could I trust a subliminal reaction, how could I be sure I hadn't projected it, or that he had even heard that I'd taken his private name? And another part of me clung to his last thoughts, that our promise had been so important to him, that he wanted to protect ME, the thought even personalized so I couldn't trick myself into believing that he'd thought I was his mother... 

Stop thinking so loud.> 

I paused and assessed my surroundings. I was on GIS once more, and everyone was asleep except for the nightshift... but Gareas-san was awake, and it had been his thought that I'd received. 

~I'm sorry,~> I returned, focusing in on him. ~I didn't mean to broadcast.~> 

You were 'broadcasting' loud enough that I'm surprised Rio didn't wake up, and he sleeps like a log,> Gareas-san commented sourly, something out of sorts in his life-force. You were so busy chatting that you never even noticed that you'd been flinging your emotions left and right.> 

~I'm sorry,~> I repeated. 

He relented almost audibly, his entire aura softening briefly. You and that kid...> *thebratwhogotintoMYeevaleena,theonethatfuckedupmywholelife* ...you're close?> 

I wanted to tell him that it wasn't Zero's fault and he knew perfectly well that it wasn't, but it would hurt him too much to hear the words. Just speaking to me like this had to be a strain on him, and he wasn't even doing any of the work to make this connection -- his EX was so weak, flickering in and out like a dying candle, that I was amazed he could hear me at all. 

~Yes.~> I concentrated harder, strengthening the contact and boosting his EX as best I could with my own. Some of the strain eased from his mind, and I continued, ~Zero was my closest friend at GOA.~> 

Like me and Ernest.> His mental tone was neutral, and I couldn't identify his emotions. The human heart is beyond my comprehension. 

~I suppose.~> 

And are you in love with him?> *likeernestwaswithmethedamnfool* 

I could've hedged or avoided the issue, or even lied to him and he probably never would've been able to make out the duplicity, not with his EX faded as it was. But telepathists are trained to know their own minds, and I've known from the very beginning that I would love Zero. The more he pushed, the more certain I became. Why lie to Gareas-san? 

~Yes,~> I told him simply. ~I am.~> 

Why?> 

Because he was everything I needed and everything I wanted, because he was something amazing and special that I had somehow been able to touch, because he was Zero. But a person like Gareas-san couldn't accept abstract rationales like those, so I gave him the most solid of my reasons: ~Because he was the only one who was never afraid of me. Because he tried so hard to make me his friend even though I resisted. That's why.~> 

You are... just like Ernest.> 

That's right. Even my heart is not my own; it was my brother's romance first. 

I want you to promise me something.> 

~Gareas-san, I can't make--~> 

I want you to promise me that you won't make the same stupid mistake your brother made.> Whether or not he sensed my startlement, the older Pilot went on passionately, I want you to promise me that eventually you'll SAY something or DO something and not just tell yourself that if he feels the same he'll let you know. I can tell you from personal experience that a guy like that brat won't think about what he has until it's much too late to start anything.> 

My brother had loved this man with all his heart and soul, sacrificed himself so that Gareas-san might live. If he'd taken action instead... then maybe... 

The human heart is beyond my comprehension, but I know my own mind. I'm not as strong as my brother, and I can't be content knowing that the one important to me is happy... but maybe, in my weakness, I can find something better than contentment. It was almost freeing to answer Gareas-san's plea with, ~I promise you that.~> 

Thanks.> The connection frayed a bit. That's all I needed to hear.> 

~Gareas-san... You have insomnia, don't you?~> His mental patterns were all wrong. It looked fairly serious. ~If you'll allow me to, I can--~> 

No,> he cut me off. I'll just use the time to think. That... that's something Ernest did for me. It wouldn't be right to have you do it. You... I'm not the person you should do that for.> 

I left him then and returned to myself, and sighed. It wasn't fair; none of it was. I didn't know how to make it better -- didn't know if it was possible to make it better. It was much too late to fix things for my brother and the man he'd loved. 

But... Aniki wouldn't want me to suffer on his behalf. Aniki -- and Gareas-san -- would want me to find the happiness they couldn't. 

~Aniki, I will. I promise you I will.~> 

And I let myself go, falling into dreams of the past, and of Zero, and of the future. 

* * *

You'd THINK this would be the end, but it's not. 

All people and places involved in Megami Kouhosei are Sugisaki Yukiru-sama's, although maybe I can claim Zero's subconscious is mine. >D 

--Kay Willow   
AIM: Savinsilk   
Email: kay_willow@hotmail.com   
Quote: Hiead from Myth15, and Erin-neesama's comment thereon -- 

Hiead: "(I wasn't cutting off your retreat! If you'd WANTED to   
escape, you could have! You just wanted that 05 to see you [acting   
brave]!)" 

"Good grief, it's like elementary school. 'You COULD'VE just   
given me your lunch money, but NOOOOO, you had to be all tough   
guy because your CRUSH~ was watching!'" 


	9. Epilogue: Finale

ABENTMINDED AUTHOR NOTES:   
The very, very last part. Really. Unless either Erin-neesama or I or both of us wind up writing a lemon branching off the fic. Which both of us are seriously considering. ^_^ I've already SEEN pieces of hers, so... 

WARNINGS:   
Shounen ai. And anime/manga/me universes. And dead people. ^^ 

Hopefully, this piece will make you feel better about the depression in the last piece. ^_~ 

* * *

  
  
SEDIMENTARY PERCUSSION   
EPILOGUE: Finale   
by Kay Willow   


Gareas waited until even he could tell that Erts' presence -- so eerily similar to Ernest's, and yet so completely different -- had faded away. Once he was sure that the boy was gone, he rearranged himself on the bed and commented out loud, "You weren't kidding when you told me that your kid brother was messed up." 

Instantly, the genuine presence made itself known. ::I never told you any such thing, Garu.:: 

If his contact had weakened at all, it wasn't noticeable to Garu's diminished EX. The images that sparked in his mind were as bright and rapid as ever, and the sense that Ernest was THERE with him remained strong. He could almost lie to himself and pretend that Ernest was still alive. 

But he wasn't that pathetic. Nor that cruel. 

"You did so." 

::I would never,:: asserted Ernest, seeming amused. ::I have a very good memory, Gareas, and it never happened.:: 

"Well, you would've been right if you had," he groused, receiving an impression of laughter in return. "Broadcasting all over the place like that..." 

::Oh, you can forgive him for THAT, can't you? He was excited!:: 

"YOU never broadcasted--" 

::YOU broadcast all the time, and EVERYTHING. There will be no accusing my brother of being a black kettle, Pot-san...:: 

Gareas heaved a sigh. "And now you're mangling quotes in addition to making irrelevant points." 

Ernest hadn't told him why his spirit had lingered, although he'd asked almost the first thing. His only answer had been a distinctly unhelpful comment about death being a relative term in times like these, and he got the distinct feeling that if Ernest had been physically present he would've been looking sideways. When he'd pressed the issue, he'd only gotten the even-less-helpful response that Dr. Kuro had some very interesting theories and if he really wanted to know maybe he should ask HIM. 

That wasn't even a feasible option, so Garu had let the matter drop. 

Wistfully, Ernest asked him, ::Do you think he's going to be okay?:: 

"I'm no psychologist. I don't know." He shifted uncomfortably. "You're the one who goes rooting around inside other people's heads; why don't you go find out for yourself?" 

::I don't think...:: Ernest was silent for so long that Garu almost wondered if he'd left, and realized somewhat belatedly that what he'd said could be considered offensive. But Ernest was too accustomed to him to be hurt by something so simple, and the contact resumed again momentarily with a quiet, ::I don't think he would find any peace in the knowledge that I lingered.:: 

"What? He'd think you were in pain? Or that you weren't happy? Correct him." Gareas snorted. "You didn't hesitate to correct me." 

::That's different. You're always wrong anyway.:: A gentle nudge. ::But I think that if he knew I was still around, he might assume that it was because I didn't trust him to do his job, or because he was afraid that I would be watching him and criticizing him...:: 

Garu stiffened. "Well, he doesn't know you very well, does he?" 

::How could he?:: Ernest responded pointedly, shooting down Garu's insults before he could even voice them. ::We were only occasionally allowed to see each other during my Candidacy, and once I became a Pilot I was only at GOA for a few days out of every year. Our only contact was mental, and two trained telepathists can hide a lot of things from each other.:: 

There wasn't much to say to that. Being Gareas, he added anyway, "That's your excuse for hiding from your brother when I'm talking to him?" 

More laughter. He wondered why humans could ignore something so simple as a sound like that while it was readily available, only to miss it once the source was gone. ::But you DID talk to him, didn't you, Garu?:: he teased. ::You were worried about him and you wanted to help him. You INSISTED on staying awake until he went to sleep, even though I offered to help you. You're a softy in spite of yourself.:: 

"I am NOT," he protested, but mildly. 

::Thank you.:: Warmth touched him, appreciation and gratitude and something that it had taken him much, much too long to recognize as love. ::For looking after him.:: 

"It's the least I can do," Gareas grumbled. "Helping hook him up with HIS clueless moron is as close as I'll ever get to happiness." 

The moment the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back. WHY did he keep saying such stupid things? 

Sure enough, Ernest answered with a faded sending, ::I'm sorry, Garu. But... there's nothing I can do about that now.:: 

Garu closed his eyes. "Erts isn't going to make the same mistake. That'll just have to be enough until we get to be together again, naa?" 

Ernest gave him a mental poke in a sensitive region of his mind; he flinched as though it had been a physical gesture as the telepathist warned him, ::You'd better not still be nursing that death wish, Garu. I'm warning you: if you kill yourself, I'll make you regret it for the rest of your afterlife. My death will have been totally pointless if you go on to commit tactical suicide, and I don't love you THAT much.:: 

Gareas grinned. "Yes, you do. Why are you still here?" 

::Go to sleep, you great fool.:: 

"You'll stay, won't you?" 

::Of course. No matter how long it takes.:: 

That same contact that had supported him for so long soothed away his concerns and controls and brought him peace in waves, but the real peace he found simply in the thought that Ernest would be there, watching over him, waiting for him. Even in times like these, when life was short and filled with dangers and uncertainties, it was reassuring to know that, in spite of it all, the things that were meant to be could not be denied.   


~das ende~ 

* * *

Dedications go to Erin-neesama and Li-san, for pre-reading and encouragement, and Ryan-san, for adoring feedback and "DO IT, POBRECITO!", and Swythangel-san, because I just thought "Juxtaposition" was terribly cool. >D Although the idea for a lingering Ernest was NOT taken from that fic -- Erin-neesama suggested it, and actually our Theory as to the past/future of the MK universe DOES at least peripherally support that possibility -- it was still damn cool, and that was the inspiration for me to write stuff of my own for MK, as opposed to what I usually do: THINK about writing stuff, and then never actually do so unless seized instantaneously by the urge. And my sister, because she's building me layouts for a webpage I'm planning on making in regards to MK. ^_^ Look for it soon~. 

Zero and Erts and Garu and Ernest and everybody else belong to Yukiru Sugisaki. So do I. >D She kicks my ass, and I love her for it. She's my God. This is but a humble work of tribute. 

--Kay Willow, done now, and returning to her translations of the manga   
AIM: Savinsilk 

Erts: Fighting, and fighting through this...   
I don't feel that we're near the "end" so soon.   
Zero: Well, that's only natural!   
Even once we've won, it won't be the "end"!   
We'll go down to Zion and live on the planet!   
What we stand before is a "beginning"!   
--Erts and Zero, towards the end of Myth 14, which I've translated.   
It still boggles my mind that the Inspirational Message here comes   
from ZERO. I mean... Zero! ^^ 


End file.
